<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Scribbled Out Name by Hyaluronic</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26867605">Scribbled Out Name</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyaluronic/pseuds/Hyaluronic'>Hyaluronic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Andy hates museums, Andy is a sad bae, Angst, Blood and Injury, Booker is a good bro, Booker just wants to go home, Booker needs therapy, Broken Bones, Burns, But He Gets Better, Character Death, Concussions, Cults, Doctor!Nicky, Drowning, Drug Withdrawal, Earthquakes, Emotional Baggage, Explicit Language, Explosions, Father!Nicolo, Feral!Nicky, Get Together by the Youngbloods, Government Experimentation, Guide Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Gun Violence, Headaches &amp; Migraines, Heat Stroke, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, I sorta kill Booker for like a hot minute, Inaccurate Medical Knowledge, Joe gets a tiny bit blown up, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani Needs a Hug, Joe's magic fingers, Kidnapping, M/M, Nicky and his guilt complex, Nicky gets a little whumped in the brain pan, Nicky quotes bible verses, Nicky to the rescue, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Needs a Hug, Nicolo di Genova totally rocked a man bun during the 14th century, Nicolò is a walking armory, Nile blackmails Nicky into going clubbing, Nile is done with everyone, Nile watches telenovela's when she's sick, No beta we die like mne, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Nurse!Joe, Possessed!Booker, Sacrifice for the Greater Good, Sentinel Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Sentinel/Guide, Shackled together, Some Humor, Temporary Character Death, The Old Guard Are Hunters, This is why we don't let Yusuf get injured people!, Uncomfortable discussion of tudor england cod pieces, Whumptober 2020, because I cant ever write permanent death, bedazzled dick cloths, but for like literally one second, electroshock, forced hypothermia, is that a thing?, like a teeny tiny itsy bitsy bit exploded, like seriously someone get him some grief counseling, sepsis, tags to be updated as I go</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:03:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>43,188</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26867605</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyaluronic/pseuds/Hyaluronic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Whumptober Day 31:</p><p>The action clear, they were leaving Nicolò to rot in the heat of the desert sun.</p><p>“You cannot!” Yusuf shouted, voice desperate and raw. They couldn’t leave Nicolò, the poor man would be lost in the ever changing landscape of the desert. He tugged against the rough hemp rope bound tightly around his wrists, ignoring how it sloughed his skin with every vicious jerk. He ignored the bite of the sword against his throat and pleaded, “Even as a deadman you can still garner a ransom for him!”<br/>My collection of one shots for Whumptober 2020.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Andy | Andromache of Scythia &amp; Nile Freeman, Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Booker | Sebastien le Livre &amp; Nile Freeman, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Nile Freeman &amp; Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>205</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>626</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>SSF</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Lets Hang Sometime</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I decided to jump on the Whumptober train, never done this challenge before so it should be interesting. I am hoping to get caught up on the prompts by this weekend. Enjoy!</p><p>Whumptober Day 1:<br/><b>Waking Up Restrained</b> | Shackled | Hanging</p><p>Updated - 10.07.2020 to fix the Italian.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Nicolo, destati.”</p><p>The faint whisper curled sweetly around him, wrapping him in warmth and familiarity, whisking away the burn he could feel aching from his arm to the rest of his body. He unknowingly leaned towards the quiet concern of his beloved in an attempt to ease the pain he could feel like a phantom limb coming from Joe.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Nicolo, destati.”</em>
</p><p>
The faint whisper curled sweetly around him, wrapping him in warmth and familiarity, whisking away the burn he could feel aching from his arm to the rest of his body. He unknowingly leaned towards the quiet concern of his beloved in an attempt to ease the pain he could feel like a phantom limb coming from Joe.  
</p><p>
<em>“Ti prego, torna da me, piccolo.”</em> 
</p><p>
Nicky took a shaky breath - he hadn’t left, <em>had he?</em> - his chest burning as it expanded painfully, and he forced his weary eyes open trying to ignore how heavy every lash felt as he blinked against a looming world of blurred grey and muted black. Nicky let his head loll from one side to the other, his mouth working to form Joe’s name but never seemingly able to get the breath he needed to finish the action. He keened at his inability, unsure as to what was going on, and confused as to what had happened.
</p><p>
They had been going to the grocery store? Hadn’t they? He remembered Andy shoving them out the door with a shopping list, Nile’s excited chatter fading as he and Joe made their way down the sidewalk. He furrowed his brow, a bright light followed by a spike of pain tugged at his memory -<em> had he died?</em> 
</p><p>
“Nicolo, <em>please</em>, habibi. ” 
</p><p>
He could hear the concern in Joe’s voice and blinked owlishly. More muscle memory than any physical thought had him reaching towards Joe to ease the distress he could hear surrounding the quiet plea but winced as something stopped him short.
</p><p>
He glanced in muddled confusion, eyes trying to comprehend the shiny silver bands wrapped tightly around his wrists. He pulled weakly at the restraint and pursed his lips in thought at the tiny clinking sound that resulted from the movement.   
</p><p>
“Nico, I know you’re confused but I need you to focus on me, yes?” 
</p><p>
Nicky turned towards the soft voice and blinked against the three wavering Joe’s until they all converged into one singular person, albeit obscured around the edges. 
</p><p>
He licked his lips, “Joe?” Niky questioned, unsure.
</p><p>
“Yes, amore mio. I’m right here.” 
</p><p>
“I’m stuck” Nicky pouted, voice rough from disuse, pulling against his restrained arms to show Joe.
</p><p>
“I know, sweetheart.” Joe acknowledged, “But, I need you to focus on my voice right now. Can you do that for me?”
</p><p>
Nicky blinked as he nodded watching in bewilderment as Joe’s form seemed to double once more before settling back into the fuzzy trussed-up man he knew and loved.
</p><p>
“Good, that’s very good.” Nicky watched as Joe seemed to shift in his chair with a grimace, continuing with a voice strained but still soft. “I need you to dislocate your thumb and slip your bonds.”
</p><p>
<em>Dislocate his thumb…?</em> Nicky questioned silently, turning from Joe to stare dumbly at his hands cuffed around the arm of the chair he was currently occupying. He scrunched his forehead, he knew how to do that, didn’t he? He could vaguely recall the phantom pain from having to do such a task in the distant past. 
</p><p>
“I know it’s hard to think right now.” Joe spoke with such sincerity that Nicky tried his hardest to concentrate on his husband’s voice and understand what was being spoken. “But I need you to do this one thing for me Nicky, that’s all.”
</p><p>
Nicky nodded, closing his eyes against the sickness that surged up his throat from the movement. Nicky clenched his eyes closed and jerked hard against the thumb on his right hand - trying and failing to muffle his cry of pain from the action. He tried to focus on the soothing words of comfort spilling forth from Joe instead of the fire radiating from his hand. For a few brief seconds the pain cleared his mind and he was able to slip his right hand free from the handcuff and turn towards Joe.
</p><p>
His beautiful-sweet caring husband who was sitting mere feet from him with a band of black stretched tight across his chest, his forearms and shins bound with the same black restraints not allowing Joe any wiggle room to move. 
</p><p>
“Joe?” The question was laced with concern as Nicky started forward only to stumble as something slammed into his back. Nicky turned baffled as an I.V pole met his confused gaze, his eyes settled on the bag hanging innocently from the pole before following the tube attached to the bag downwards to where it entered his arm underneath a swath of duct tape. 
</p><p>
“Habibi, you need to pull out the iv.” Joe encouraged straining against his own bonds, eyes looking at some unknown point behind him. 
</p><p>
Nicky frowned before he picked at the duct tape and unrolled it to leave the iv port to glare ominously up at him from his forearm. Nicky ripped the port out with a wince watching a small drop of blood escape the tiny puncture wound before his body healed. 
</p><p>
Joe grinned tiredly as he watched Nicky’s eyes start to clear from the haze of whatever had been pumped into him. “You’re doing so good, Habibi.” 
</p><p>
Nicky cleared his throat and shuffled forward, “What happened?”
</p><p>
“Apparently the traffickers we pissed off last week had friends.” Joe explained with a hiss when Nicky’s nails scrapped against his arm as he ripped the bonds from his forearms. “They wanted revenge, wanted to know where Nile and Andy were holed up.”
</p><p>
Nicky <em>hmmm’d</em> an acknowledgement as he ripped black velcro from Joe’s shins and chest. 
</p><p>
“Didn’t like it when I told them where they could go.” As soon as Joe was free he quickly stood and pulled Nicky to him resting his forehead against his loves and inhaled deeply relishing in the balsamic tinted cologne that Nicky wore. “They brought you in after, hopped up on some drug.”
</p><p>
Nicky closed his eyes and rested against Joe with a slight smile. “Must have been very good, because I don’t remember anything after we left the house.”
</p><p>
“Are you alright, habibi albi?” Joe asked, fingers lacing a crown around Nicky’s head, his thumbs rubbing gently against the younger man’s scalp. 
</p><p>
“Perfetto, love. Let’s go repay our gracious hosts for their hospitality.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. In The Hands of the Enemy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nile wrinkled her nose in disgust, watching as the man pulled a leash - a goddamned leash - from the inner pocket of his navy suit jacket. She wasn’t sure what Nicky’s plan was but there was no way in hell she was letting this man tether her like a damned dog.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wumptober Day 2:<br/>“Pick who dies” | <b>Collars</b> | <b>Kidnapped</b></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“In case you haven’t noticed, Nicky,” Nile hissed, words a harsh breath through her clenched teeth and hanging heavily in the stale air. “they’re planning to sell us to the highest bidder.”</p><p>
Said man was currently looking around their small cell, eyes trailing along the ceiling where the metal bars sat snugly against concrete. “I am very aware, Little Sister. Let us hope it doesn’t get that far.”
</p><p>
Nile huffed and sank back against the cold of the exposed brick behind her. Gaze focused on the small water spot in the middle of the floor of their gracious accommodations. She swallowed against the lump in her throat and tried to ignore the feeling of the rough leather that hugged her neck tightly from the action. She brought a hand up to lightly touch the reminder of her failure. The harsh grainy texture of the collar rough against her fingertips and silently mocking her failed promise to the people of the small village they’d been there to help. If she had been just seconds quicker, been just that much faster, just been more <em>anything</em> her and Nicky wouldn’t currently be waiting like animals for the slaughter. 
</p><p>
“Nile?” Nicky questioned quietly, his fingers light as a feather against her temple drawing her attention away from the blurred water spot on the floor to the man now kneeling worriedly beside her. She hadn’t even heard him move. God, she hated this. She was a marine, she had bled out on the dirt floor of some dilapidated building in the middle of the desert - <em>fell from the penthouse of a damned skyscraper</em> - but the idea of being bought by some black market warlord was rattling her more than anything in the past year had. 
</p><p>
“It’s alright, Nile.” 
</p><p>
She shook her head at the words, dislodging Nicky’s nimble fingers from where he had been smoothing her hair, she wasn’t a child, she didn’t need Nicky to offer false platitudes and warm gestures to calm her nerves. She knew their odds at being rescued, it was Joe and a very determined but easily breakable Andy versus an untold number of assholes with automatics and the lord only knew what else. If her and Nicky were going to escape they would have to be responsible for their own rescue.
</p><p>
The sound of the lock disengaging and the metal door to their cell creaking open had the both of them turning to stare at their well dressed host flanked by four heavily armed guards in tac gear.
</p><p>
Nicky settled a warm hand against Nile’s knee and squeezed lightly. She cocked her head minutely, side eyeing Nicky to try and gauge what he was planning but she was no Joe. She didn’t know the meaning behind every silent gesture and gentle tic Nicky conveyed.
</p><p>
Nicky gave her knee one more slight squeeze before he stood her gaze following him as he made to block her from view, “Well, if it isn’t the head asshole of the small dick brigade.”  
</p><p>
Nile choked at the words and stared wide eyed at the back of Nicky’s head. She had never heard Nicky say such vulgar things before. Joe, sure he spoke whatever was on his mind and wasn’t shy about it. Nicky? He was the kind of guy that you’d bring home to meet your mom, polite and mostly quiet spoken. Nile barely had time to register the sound of the gun going off before she watched flabbergasted as Nicky’s dead weight fell to the floor with a dull thud. 
</p><p>
“What the fuck…?” She whispered confusedly, turning from Nicky to stare open mouthed at the group at the door of their cell. Still very unsure what the hell the escape plan was.
</p><p>
“I do apologize but I don’t take kindly to insults, call it a quirk of mine. Besides, my clientele doesn't really have a need for a man in his thirties anyways. He’ll fetch more in harvest than as a warm body.” 
</p><p>
Nile swallowed, unsure as her gaze flickered to Nicky for the barest moment, watching the red creep out from underneath his body. She shifted her foot forward to gently kick at Nicky’s ankle before settling snuggly against his leg trying to offer him some form of comfort as he passed. 
</p><p>
“Now you on the other hand, My Dear.” The man twirled his finger beside his head and two guards made their way into the cell and hefted Nicky’s corpse - because he was still bleeding but definitely not breathing - up and out of the cell leaving her alone with the smarmy asshole and his two other lackies. “A pretty young thing like you? You’ll fetch quite a pretty penny.”
</p><p>
“Suck an egg.” Nile ground out as the man snapped his fingers and the guards aimed their weapons at her.
</p><p>
“Oh you are going to be fun to break.” 
</p><p>
Nile wrinkled her nose in disgust, watching as the man pulled a leash - <em>a goddamned leash</em> - from the inner pocket of his navy suit jacket. She wasn’t sure what Nicky’s plan was but there was no way in hell she was letting this man tether her like a damned dog. She stood quickly and squared her shoulders, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she pursed her lips over clenched teeth. She held still as the man walked towards her with that self assured swagger of the overly confident. She held steady as he stopped in front of her, wanting nothing more than to punch his stupid face but she refrained - unsure of what Nicky’s two squeezes to her knee were meant to convey. For all she knew she was supposed to be punching these guys out and making a run for it - or, waiting for Nicky to make a grand reentrance. When this was all over, Nile decided she was going to have to sit down and explain to the geriatric immortals she ran with that not everyone was up to par on the mission shorthand playbook. 
</p><p>
“Please don’t make this difficult.” The man stated with a world weary sigh, as if her show of defiance was an annoyance he’d rather not deal with. He quickly clipped the leash to the collar around her neck with a small smirk.  “Damaged goods never do well, I’m afraid, we usually have to pay for the medical treatment or lower the cost and I’d hate to be out that money.”
</p><p>
Nile took a deep breath, the barest hint of retort on the tip of her tongue before a scream from somewhere outside of her confines stopped her. A crack of what sounded like thunder reverberated around them rattling through the bars of the cage as dust rained down from the ceiling above. Nile blinked, she was seriously going to have to have a talk with her new family about the art of subtly.
</p><p>
As her smarmy ass captor turned to give orders to his lackies, Nile gripped the rough polyester of the leash in her hand and quickly wrapped it around her captors throat and pulled all her weight back. She flinched at the wet gurgling sounds the man made when his hands couldn’t pull the leash away enough to breathe. 
</p><p>
She looked up at the guards ready to demand they drop their weapons when the two fell to the ground without a word. Nile blinked in surprise before hissing when sharp nails ripped at her hands to try and loosen her grip but she twisted the leash and pulled harder, riding out the thrashing her captor was doing before the man fell silent. Nile dropped him to the floor before sending quite a few harsh kicks to the dead man's ribs. “Asshole! People aren’t commodities! You human trafficking self-righteous piece of trash!” 
</p><p>
“Nile?” 
</p><p>
Said woman looked up from her rant, “Nicky!”
</p><p>
“I apologize that it took too long.” Nicky said regretfully, slipping forward to pull Nile into a quick hug before pulling back and brushing an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “These people lack the required equipment so I improvised. You okay?”
</p><p>
Nile nodded at the question, smiling as Nicky quickly unclipped the lead from the collar she was wearing, his expression pinched as his fingers brushed against the lock hanging from the buckle of the collar. “I did not find keys but we will have to make due until we are out of here and then we can cut these abhorred things off.”
</p><p>
“It’s fine.” Nile dismissed with the wave of her hand. “Let’s just get out of here, for the love of God.”
</p><p>
Nicky patted her gently in the cheek with a smile, “As you wish, Little Sister.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. My Way or the Highway</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nile shouted the same time the leader pulled the trigger, her ears burning from the imagined rapport of the gun that now hung loosely in the cult leader’s hands.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Whumtober Day 3:<br/><b>Manhandled</b> | <b>Forced to their knees</b> | <b>Held at gunpoint</b></p><p>I meant to have this out last night but work was crazy and I have to have my education proposal done by the end of this weekend for college and so it's been eating up a lot of my time.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Damn-it. Andy!” Nile shoved against the hands that were forcing her roughly to the ground. For every hand she smacked away another took its place. She tried to elbow the man behind her in the gut before her knees were kicked forcing her to hit the concrete with bruising force. She made to stand but two sets of hands quickly settled achingly against her shoulders to keep her in place. Nile jerked once to try and shake the crushing grip on her shoulders but winced when she was rewarded with a quick punch to her diaphragm. She gagged and coughed trying her hardest to catch her breath as she curled into the pain trying to alleviate the spasm causing her to fight for air.</p><p>
“Ass...holes.” She gasped out, forcing herself to calm as she finally laid eyes on Andy. 
</p><p>
Andy, who had been forced to kneel with her hands bound tightly behind her, a gun nestled snugly against the base of her skull with two robed lackeys flanking either side of her dressed in garish yellow robes with red hoods that reminded Nile of some defunct Ronald McDonald costume from the dark ages. 
</p><p>
Nile tried to shrug out of the grip on her once more but stopped when she felt a gun settle against the back of her head. She closed her eyes to take a breath trying to settle her nerves, she wouldn’t do Andy any good if she got herself taken out for even a second. When she opened her eyes it was to the sight of the man that had been holding the gun on Andy now standing off to the side his lanky arms spread wide as he addressed his followers. Squeaky voice echoing through the clearing of the compound. 
</p><p>
“Children of Paragon, we are in a time of crisis. The world we were bred into has left us feeling hollow and lost.” Nile watched as the man closed his eyes and bowed his head in fake sincerity for a moment of silence before reopening his eyes and holding his hands to his chest in an overly dramatic show of heartfelt caring.“Though you may feel lost, you are not, My Children. Though inside you may have been left hollow from the harshness of this world, know that the light of Paragon fills you whole.”
</p><p>
Nile rolled her eyes at the honeyed diatribe spewing out of the cult leaders mouth and tried to duck her head to catch Andy’s eye but she never could seem to get Andy to look towards her. Instead, Andy was focused on the ground before her, her mouth set in a frown and forehead wrinkled in thought. Nile shifted as the boisterous medieval Ronald McDonald reject clicked the safety off his gun. Nile curled her toes under her and shifted her weight, eyeing the man with trepidation and trying her best to ignore her own predicament. She’d heal, Andy on the other hand... 
</p><p>
“God loves you, your brother’s and sister’s love you. If anyone challenges that devotion, they are challenges of our God and of those most loyal. It is your right - no, your duty - to defeat them from on high!” With that proclamation, the man turned back towards Andy and pressed the muzzle of the gun to her forehead.
</p><p>
“Hey!” Nile shouted fruitlessly, trying to turn the man's attention towards her but the leader only glanced her way long enough to nod towards the robed idiots holding her at gunpoint.
</p><p>
“My Children, we are tested everyday and we must remain unshaken in our faith.” The man smiled, cheeks dimpling. “For our will is God’s will.”
</p><p>
Nile shouted the same time the leader pulled the trigger, her ears burning from the imagined rapport of the gun that now hung loosely in the cult leader’s hands. Nile took a shaky breath to try and quell the icy burn in her stomach, her wide eyes confused as she watched the two lackeys cut Andy’s bonds and help her raise to her feet. 
</p><p>
“We are fighting for what matters most.” The leader said with a small smile and slight dip of his head towards Andy. “ If we stand united,” He continued clasping Andy on the shoulder, “our proud mouths open, anxious ears and eyes closed, armed and flailing we can and will make a difference in this world that has forsaken us.”
</p><p>
Nile scrunched her nose at the stupidity of the statement. There was no way the man truly believed their little mass of brainwashed misfits could make difference.  She breathed a sigh of relief when the hands that had confined her disappeared along with the tight pressure of the gun. She was gently helped to her feet and quickly ushered to stand beside Andy.
</p><p>
“Brothers and Sisters of the Children of Paragon, I have the great honor of welcoming our new Sisters Andy and Nile into our fold. They will be a wonderful addition to our community, I relish the opportunity to see their light shine and grow in our presence.”
</p><p>
Nile bumped her shoulder against Andy's who seemed to be basking in the followers excited clapping and cheering before them. She wondered if this was how it had been for Andy however many thousands of years ago when people had traveled miles and miles for the chance to bask in her shadow. Nile quietly wondered if Andy missed the unabashed adoration of a public willing to bend to her every whim - not unlike that of the cult they had been hired to take down. She gently prodded Andy's fingertips with her own the question on the tip of her tongue but instead, “What the hell was that?”
</p><p>
Andy smirked and entwined her fingers with Nile's and squeezed, whispering, “Not my first cult kid. They’re all flamboyance and long winded speeches, most don’t have the balls to do any actual harm.”
</p><p>
“And the ones that do?” Nile dared asked while Andy smirked and tapped her nose with her free hand - a red light appeared on the tip of her nose. Nile looked over towards the wooded area that encased the compound and could see the faint reflection of red before it disappeared. Of course, she had wondered where Joe and Nicky had run off to after they both had giggled like school girls about camping in the woods for the duration of her and Andy’s mission. 
</p><p>
“Nicky and Joe would’ve ended it before it became anything.”
</p><p>
Nile didn’t even ask how Andy knew that the gun that had been trained on her wasn’t lethal but realized she really didn’t want to know the answer because knowing Andy and her wild-child behavior she would have said she hadn’t known and - in all honesty - Nile wasn’t sure what she would have done. Probably punch Andy which would have resulted in the woman grinning at her like an idiotic proud mama-bear.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Running out of time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“No, no-no, Nicolo, destati.” Joe grimaced, in his franticness to keep Nicky awake, the beam across his back shifted, the wood creaked in protest and the fire in his side turned into an inferno. “shit…”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Whumptober Day 4<br/>Caged | Buried Alive | <b>Collapsed Building</b></p><p>10-12-20: Edited for minor grammar mistakes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At first Joe thought nothing of the way the table rattled or the way his coffee rippled almost as if he had set it down rather clumsily - which given his current exhausted state, he may have. It was when he looked up at Nicky with a curious eye to see his husband standing over the stove looking around the room perplexed, the corners of his love's eyes pinched in concern and mouth set in a hard line that he knew something was wrong.</p><p>
“Nicky?” The last syllable barely left his tongue before the whole house shuttered around them with such force it left the both of them sprawled on the floor, falling heavily to the white marbled tile.
</p><p>
Nicky looked towards Joe with wide eyes before a rather harsh rocking wave sent them both scrambling for the underside of the table, their carefully placed pictures crashing to the floor around them in response to the disturbance. The lights above flickered from the strain of the rumbling earth, the hard knocking of the floor had the kitchen cabinets vibrating till the doors fell open and scattered the contents within onto the tiled floor below; coffee mugs fell with dull thuds to the ground while more delicate plates and glasses shattered upon impact, flinging porcelain and glass every which way. 
</p><p>
Joe curled around Nicky, tucking the younger man’s head under his chin and pulling him close when a particularly jarring shake had the ground quivering beneath them with the pent up tension of eons of pressure suddenly racing to be released. A curse escaped Joe when something heavy and metallic struck the wooden table top above them. He gripped Nicky tighter when he noticed the plaster walls of the house begin to fall in jagged pieces around them. The dust rising up from the splintered walls surrounding them like a fog.
</p><p>
A crack of what sounded like thunder - the noise reminiscent of a quarry detonation - boomed around them, the lights flickered in one last attempt at life before the room plunged into a thick darkness that had Nicky gripping Joe’s arms tight with worry and Joe responding with his own squeeze of reassurance.
</p><p>
The ground beneath them gave one last shuddering wobble before seeming to finally rest. A few quiet moments passed where nothing but the sound of labored breathing permeated the air around them. Joe cleared his throat against the grit and dust as he unfurled himself from around Nicky and leaned back against one of the table legs. He let loose a heavy sigh of relief, his anxious heart slowing as the danger around them finally calmed. 
</p><p>
“Are you alright, habibi?” 
</p><p>
Nicky looked up at the whisper quiet question with a nod as he scrubbed his shaky hands through his short locks. Nicky took a breath to ask Joe if he was alright as well but a shivering quake stopped him. There was a loud groan beneath them, a tremor tore through the floor joists in the aftermath of the quake. Nicky barely had a chance to shout, his arm reaching for Joe, as the floor gave away beneath him sending him falling into the pitch black depths below. 
</p><p>
<em>“I will never forget the curses you tossed at them. You were...nnng...very. creative. or the-the look on the soldiers eyes as you jumped into the Tigris. They left us after that...probably deemed us mad for you chasing a book in-into the blackened waters.”</em>
</p><p>
The warmth of a whispered breath tickled his lashes, chasing the cold dark of unconsciousness away and reacquainting him with the harsh blurred reality of Joe leaning over him, his love’s face thin and pale in the grayed darkness surrounding them as Joe recanted past adventures. 
</p><p>
“Th-there you are, habibi.” Joe greeted quietly, the small beginnings of a strained smile dancing at the edges of his mouth. 
</p><p>
“Joe?” The waver in his voice matched the shaking of his hand as he reached up to brush rust colored fingertips against Joe’s temple.
</p><p>
Joe leaned into the light touch, wanting nothing more than to grab the trembling fingers of his love and kiss away the pain and confusion he could see dulling Nicky’s normally bright eyes but the heaviness of debris against his back and the aching fire burning at his side stopped him. He was afraid if he moved too much, shifted in even the slightest, the tenuous hold he had on the wreckage above would fall, crushing them. “It’s alright, Nicolo. We are fine, yes?”
</p><p>
Nicky blinked against the darkened twilight gathering at the edges of his vision and frowned. “Nicolo?” He murmured, eyes slipping close, “You only… call me that when...trouble.”
</p><p>
“No, no-no, Nicolo, destati.” Joe grimaced, in his franticness to keep Nicky awake, the beam across his back shifted, the wood creaked in protest and the fire in his side turned into an inferno. “shit…”
</p><p>
Nicky fought sleep heavy lashes to waken, fingers trailing from Joe’s temple to caress the frown lines at the corner of his mouth. “You’re hurt?”
</p><p>
“Only a little.” Joe murmured, swallowing against the throbbing fire radiating from his side. He could feel an underlying itchiness beneath the pain and knew his body was trying to heal but something was stopping the process. He refused to look to see what was causing the problem because, as it stood right now, he could only do his best to ignore the red-hot annoyance. He knew if he looked at it, he’d have to deal with it. And he currently wasn’t in a position to do so without risking many repeated deaths to the both of them, he reminded himself. He heard something clink from above and tried his best to calm himself when something unknown clattered to the basement floor beside Nicky’s head.
</p><p>
Nicky let his hand fall to rest against his chest, too tired to hold it up, “Only a little?” He snickered before coughing against a tickle in his throat that had his back arching when something jagged and awful shifted in his chest. 
</p><p>
“Nicolo?”
</p><p>
Nicky blinked slowly at Joe’s soft call, grunting at the feel of bones shifting and realigning beneath his skin. “Think I broke something - <em>hurts</em>.”
</p><p>
“It will heal.” Joe promised, taking a chance to shuffle his hand to knock the inside of his wrist against Nicky’s side, his need to offer some sort of comfort an ache he couldn’t ignore. “W-we will be fine.... habibi.”
</p><p>
“Andy?” Nicky questioned, voice clearer, “Nile?”
</p><p>
“Movies…” Joe whispered, trying to ignore the quiver in his biceps from holding the weight of their continued life on his shoulders. 
</p><p>
“Our fall, it hurt you?” Nicky asked, shifting to reaching up to cup Joe’s cheek.
</p><p>
“I am only a-a little hurt.” Joe reiterated, leaning into the soft caress, black encroaching on his vision as brilliant white sparkled within the darkened depths that crept closer to his consciousness. He locked his elbows to try and keep from falling. His face felt hot while an icy numbness that he knew he wouldn’t be able to fight off for long circled around his head.
</p><p>
Nicky rubbed a thumb over Joe’s cheekbone, “Yusuf, do not lie to me, hayati. You are terrible at it.”
</p><p>
“I’m...I am sorry,” Joe apologized, his head falling forward when his muscles could no longer hold his head up. He swallowed roughly against the lump in his throat, his eyes beginning to well with the knowledge that he would be responsible for Nicky’s next death - his muscles screaming at him to let go but his stubbornness refusing to let him even as his arms shook from stress. “For-forgive me, habibi albi.”
</p><p>
“There’s nothing to forgive, hayati.” Nicky reassured, the pads of his thumb wiping away the pooling tears at the corner of Joe’s eyes. 
</p><p>
Joe sobbed as the black finally overtook him and he fell into a blissful quiet, the sharp painful gasp of Nicky screaming louder at him than any of the debris crashing down around them - <em>on top of them</em>. Then nothing.
</p><p>
<em>”Yusuf!”</em>
</p><p>
Joe floundered against the shout of his name. His lungs sucking in gulps of air as he was forcefully brought back to awareness by the frantic call from the one person he could never ignore. His hands were reaching for Nicky to calm the panic he could hear in the man's voice even before he peeled his eyes open. 
</p><p>
“See, told you, not his time.” Joe turned to see Andy smiling down at him, the light of mid-day casting a golden glow around her. 
</p><p>
Joe turned at the choked laugh and softened at the red eyes of Nicky staring down at him. He reached up and gently cupped Nicky’s face. “Sono qui, cuore mio.” 
</p><p>
Nicky wiped his eyes, stupid grin plastered to his face at Joe’s gentle words. Joe returned the grin and pulled Nicky down into a kiss.
</p><p>
“They’re fine.” Andy assessed patting Joe’s leg as she stood.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Auugh, I'm falling behind in my prompts! *Flails* But hopefully this was worth the wait?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Where Do You Think You're Going?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 5<br/>On the run | Failed Escape | <b>Rescue</b></p><p>The world around him was fuzzy, for just a moment - a second too long - he forgot where he was and what had happened. Nicky’s name on the tip of his tongue before the faint itchiness of healing skin and sinew reminded him of his current situation.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heed the added electroshock tag as Joe is hurt during this one. And I apologize that I am so slow going with this challenge, lol. Hopefully I’ll get caught up soon! 🤗</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Still refusing to speak?” The melodious timbre of the man speaking was a facade, Joe knew, the sweet caress of a voice that was nothing more than a perfected mask to help loosen the lips of anyone unlucky enough to be trapped in the man’s presence. He’d seen this tactic before and it always irritated him - giving false hope to those foolhardy enough to fall for it. “You make things too hard on yourself, <em>ami</em>.”</p><p>
<em>Ami</em>. Joe snorted at the word, eyes rolling heavenward, the bright fluorescent lighting glaring down at him and abusing his already dry-sensitive eyes to the point he had to close them to ease his discomfort. 
</p><p>
<em>Friend.</em> He silently mused. When the air in front of his face shifted and warmed, Joe blinked his eyes open, an uneasy feeling sinking into him and settling like a live wire against his nerves when the beady eyes and down-turned smile of his captor greeted him. He tried to take a step back, to get some distance between the two of them, but the restraints holding his hands achingly above him refused to budge. 
</p><p>
“Are you familiar with the proverb, <em>Mieux vaut prévenir que guérir?</em>” 
</p><p>
<em>It is better to prevent than to heal.</em> Joe had heard those words spoken many times from Booker, the Frenchman was quite fond of the phrase, always reprimanding them for being needlessly under cautious just because they could heal. Joe swallowed against the ache in his chest at the thought of his former brother and turned his head to look at some far away point on the wall. He inhaled through his nose and let it out slowly, trying to prepare himself mentally for whatever divisive torture this Bond villain reject had planned for him. 
</p><p>
Joe watched from his periphery as his captor nodded to someone behind him and suddenly something wet and cold splashed against his bare feet and soaked through the cuffs of his sweatpants. <em>Fuck</em>. Joe curled his toes when the uneasiness from earlier turned into an all encompassing dread that rattled something deep within him. His stomach clenched at the thousand thoughts that rushed through him, each more horrendous and distasteful than the last at what was about to happen. He’d seen enough bad spy movies with Nile over the last few years to take a guess where this was headed. 
</p><p>
“I take your continued reticence as a ‘<em>no</em>’.” The man leaned back with a grin, a soft throaty chuckle rumbling forth from his lips at Joe’s discomfort before he continued, “It is the belief that we should take the precautionary measures to prevent ourselves from becoming ill instead of having to treat and heal the illness.”  
</p><p>
The man paused and stared at Joe with a seemingly compassionate smile. “So, mon cher ami, shall we prevent the illness?” 
</p><p>
Joe swallowed, there was a strange mechanical noise happening behind him and he wanted nothing more than to be able to turn around and see, even if it wouldn’t change how things would play out. Instead, he inclined his head to meet his captors gaze and kept silent. 
</p><p>
The man sighed and stepped back and away from Joe, waving his hand dismissively, “Allumer l'appareil”
</p><p>
<em>Turn on the power.</em> The meaning of the words slammed into Joe’s consciousness like a freight train. He tried to frantically turn to see what was happening but couldn’t seem to get enough purchase on the slick concrete, his feet sliding and jarring his shoulders in his attempt. 
</p><p>
An excruciating-jolting pain tore through Joe’s body, seizing on his muscles like a vulture and shooting the breath from his lungs till it felt like his chest was going to cave in on itself. His mouth opened in a mimic of a scream, his muscles unable to draw air into his lungs and leaving him convulsing against what felt like waves of white hot lightning rushing through him. The pain built until bursts of white danced across his vision sending his consciousness towards the encroaching black waiting at the edges of his sight. Just when the world around him was about to dissolve into blessed darkness, his captor uttered sweet words of release.
</p><p>
“C’est assez.” 
</p><p>
<em>Yes, yes, more than enough.</em> Joe thought as he sagged against his restraints, a ringing in his ears drowning out the world around him till the only thing his body was aware of was the harsh echo of his own labored breath and the scrubbed raw feeling of his toes and fingers. The few seconds it took for his body to start working against the aftermath of the current that had rushed through him had Joe blinking owlishly and licking his lips, his mind working to catch-up with what had happened. 
</p><p>
“I just need a name.” Joe narrowed his eyes at the words trying to focus on the movement of his captor, who was sauntering towards him with soft eyes and a sympathetic tilt to his lips. “To let slip a simple name would not be so bad, would it?”
</p><p>
Joe wouldn’t betray Copley, no matter how much the man irked him some days, so he remained silent. He watched, the chest of his captor expand with a heavy sigh, almost as if the man was saddened by Joe’s continued silence. 
</p><p>
“Comme vous voulez. Again.” 
</p><p>
The tight pull of his muscles was all the warning Joe had before his body was burning with the stings of a thousand bees. Joe clenched his hands tight and tried his hardest to ride out the undulating sharp pain that seemed to sprout everywhere prickling against his muscles and gnawing at the very cells of his being. His heart gave an awful stutter, his chest bursting with an awful anxiety that made it hard to discern if it was he himself feeling panic-stricken or a by-product of his overtaxed nervous system; and, just like before, when he the pain met its high point - an all encompassing pain - it dissipated. 
</p><p>
The world around him was fuzzy, for just a moment - a second too long - he forgot where he was and what had happened. Nicky’s name on the tip of his tongue before the faint itchiness of healing skin and sinew reminded him of his current situation. A few rapid blinks had the world righting itself and the fuzzy figures before him slowly came into focus, the sharp edges of his captor and another man - whispering into his tormentor's ear - stood before him, a frown marring his no named captors face.
</p><p>
A nod and the man leaning into his captor headed out of the room. 
</p><p>
“It seems like I will have to cut our losses.” His captor explained, nodding to whoever was behind him, “I do sincerely apologize and I know you will not believe my words but I do hate to have to end things this way. I do promise,” Something faint clicked behind Joe, “no suffering, mon cher ami. It will be a quick release.”
</p><p>
The sound of several dulled consecutive pops - gunfire, if Joe had to guess - sounded from somewhere outside their room. The muffled screams of unknown people drifted into the room settling heavy in the frenetic air. Something warm slithered through Joe and wrapped cotton soft around his chest as his hurt and anxiety seemed to melt from him - help had arrived. 
</p><p>
“Mai tire d’abord cette balle, Arthur.” His captor hissed, the sincere facade fading quickly, the screaming outside heralding his downfall. 
</p><p>
“I wouldn’t fire that gun Arthur.” Joe stated, his voice a horrid croak, “ Non, Arthur, ce sera ta mort.” 
</p><p>
There was a very vulgar curse whispered from behind him quickly followed by several loud pops ricocheting off the door before him. Joe grinned like an idiot in love when the door to the room was blasted off its hinges. If there was one thing his family knew how to do, it was make an entrance. 
</p><p>
Joe blinked as his captor reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small silver handgun, the man barely had a chance to get the gun aimed before a double tap to his chest sent him to the ground. Joe swallowed at the sight of Nicky in his tac gear walking into the room with an air of dominance and retribution. He knew the feeling well, it was the same that flowed through him when anyone dared to lay hands on his family. A small smile settled on his lips when Nicky made quick work of Arthur - the man behind him - before letting his weapon fall to hang from his vest.
</p><p>
“So, should I even ask?” Nicky questioned making his way forward and pulled his combat knife from a pocket on his vest. He reached up and cut the zip ties that bound Joe with delicate care, his eyes narrowing at the blackened smudges at the tips of Joe’s fingers. “You were supposed to be getting gelato.”
</p><p>
Joe felt giddy with the relief that was rushing through him, relishing in the warmth of Nicky’s hands against his chilled ones. “The line was so long, I had to find something to pass the time.”
</p><p>
Joe licked his lips watching as Nicky pulled his hands to his lips and kissed the reddened circles around his wrists. “You are alright?”
</p><p>
“Of course, Habibi.” Joe murmured, “You are here, all is well.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I feel like the ending is rushed but I am still happy with how this turned out. Never really wrote torture before so not sure how well that came across.</p><p>And thank you all for the continued kudos and subscriptions it always makes my day when people enjoy reading my fics! 😊</p><p>French used in this chapter:<br/>Ami - Friend<br/>Mon Cher Ami - My Dear friend<br/>Mieux vaut prévenir que guérir - It is better to prevent than to heal<br/>Allumer l'appareil - Turn it on/ switch on the device<br/>C’est assez - Enough<br/>Comme vous voulez - As you wish<br/>Mai tire d’abord cette balle, Arthur - Fire the gun, Arthur.<br/>Non, Arthur, ce sera ta mort - No, Arthur, it will be your death.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Please...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 6<br/><b>“Get it out”</b> | No More | <b>“Stop, please”</b></p><p>“Treatments?” Nicky questioned his head snapping towards the man, eyes wide. He didn’t really like the sound of that. His mind flashed back to the harsh bite of a scalpel digging into his skin and the quiet frown of Dr. Kozak, the woman’s forehead crinkled in thought as she watched him heal. The image still haunted him to this day many months on. Nicky licked his lips as his mouth ran dry, the thought of being torn apart - dissected - had ice slithering down his spine making him shiver.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is an AU-ish fill for the prompt, inspired by the River Tam Sessions Promo for the Serenity movie. The only thing that you really have to know is that Nicky was captured by the government and is being experimented on a-la River Tam. Pretty sure I butchered any and all medical info in this and hopefully this is not too OOC for Nicky but other than that, please enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Unhand me!” Nicky hollered, jerking his arms as hard as he could, trying to break free from the hands that were forcing him down into the confines of a metal chair.</p><p>
“Get your hands off me!” He cried out as the hands held him steadfast while leather straps were pulled taught around his wrists and ankles, restraining him. Nicky growled at the two men who had restrained him, watching as they backed away from him to stand vigilant beside the table situated in front of him. 
</p><p>
“Now, Nicky, you must calm yourself. I would hate to have to sedate you before I’ve done my initial assessment.” A man with graying hair, clothed in a white lab coat and black scrubs, whose eyes were framed by silver glasses slipped through the door of the room, a clipboard in one hand and a hypodermic needle clutched in the other. 
</p><p>
Nicky eyed the needle wearily weighing his options before deciding he stood a better chance of escaping his current predicament if his body wasn’t fighting against the effects of heavy sedation. He swallowed, jaw ticking in agitation, and nodded tersely. 
</p><p>
“Good man.” The gray haired man said with a smile, settling himself in the chair across from Nicky. “Now, my name is Dr. Reardon. I am going to ask you some questions and all you have to do is answer them for me.” 
</p><p>
A prick of pain stung from the palm of Nicky’s hand, his fingernails having broken through his skin from how tight he was clenching his hands. Nicky closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath and slowly straighten his aching fingers, flexing them a few times to work out the built up tension in the joints. “Whatever it is you think you will gain from this, you won’t find what you hope to.”
</p><p>
Dr. Reardon blinked in surprise, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips, head tilted in curiosity, “And what do you think it is we are doing here, Nicky?” 
</p><p>
“You are like any other, you wish to know things that are beyond the limits of your medical science, you want to know what makes us different.” Nicky gave his restraints a few light tugs, testing the bounds. “You will only be disappointed.”
</p><p>
“Oh, Nicky. We have no interest in finding out what makes you tick.” Nicky blinked in surprise at the admission. A queasy feeling worming its way through him.“Your genetic difference is why we want you. Project Serenity is very harsh to a person’s system, most of our subjects have ended this journey in death. But, with you, with your <em>special</em> abilities, I have high hopes for a successful outcome.” 
</p><p>
Nicky took a harsh breath and focused his sight on the shiny metal of the table top. He just needed to buy time. Surely by now the others had returned home and realized he’d been snatched. Copley would help them figure out his location and they’d be raining down retribution on this man and his companions in no time. Of this, he was sure.
</p><p>
“I know you are thinking that your family will find you and I assure you, we are more than counting on them showing their faces but hopefully not before we are finished with your treatments.”
</p><p>
“Treatments?” Nicky questioned his head snapping towards the man, eyes wide. He didn’t really like the sound of that. His mind flashed back to the harsh bite of a scalpel digging into his skin and the quiet frown of Dr. Kozak, the woman’s forehead crinkled in thought as she watched him heal. The image still haunted him to this day many months on. Nicky licked his lips as his mouth ran dry, the thought of being torn apart - <em>dissected</em> - had ice slithering down his spine making him shiver. 
</p><p>
“I do promise we are an ethical group just trying to better mankind, Project Serenity is our future.” Dr. Reardon uncapped his pen and wrote something across the top of the clipboard that Nicky couldn’t see. “Now, let us get started, shall we? Something simple to begin with would you rather go by your given name or Nicky?”
</p><p>
“Go fornicate with a goat.” Nicky grumbled. He let his head fall back against his chair and stared at the ceiling, silently praying that his family - that Joe - would burst through at any moment but hoping they were smart enough to take their time and plan things through. He knew Andy and Joe were an act first, think twice later but Nile surely would make them see reason, make the two stop and think things through. 
</p><p>
“Hmm, we will stick with Nicky for now, if that’s alright with you?” The scratch of his pen gliding across paper was the only reply that Dr. Reardon received. “And your age?”
</p><p>
“951.”
</p><p>
The two men standing by the table choked at the answer as the Dr. Reardon blinked in surprise, “Truly?”
</p><p>
Nicky rolled his eyes and sagged into the chair tuning out the Dr.’s other questions. He twisted his wrist, mentally smiling when he felt the restraint shift ever so slightly. He continued to work on his bonds until he noticed the shadow of the two men standing at the ends of the table move. He looked up in time to see one grab his head and pull, exposing his neck while the other stood towering over him. 
</p><p>
Nicky grunted, glancing towards Reardon in anger. The Doctor sighed and shoved the hypodermic needle towards his side of the table. “Perhaps we shall continue our chat when you’ve had a chance to assimilate to your new surroundings.”
</p><p>
Nicky pulled against the leather keeping him bound to the damned chair, his eyes never leaving the needle as the man towering over him grasped the needle and leveled it with his jugular. 
</p><p>
“Don’t!” Nicky shouted, as he watched from his periphery as the needle slid into his neck, hissing as the clear liquid disappeared from the barrel and into his veins. “Stop, please!” Fire burned through his veins as the medicine worked its way through his system.
</p><p>
“I have a feeling that given time you and I will become the best of friends, Nicky.”
</p><p>
Nicky squeezed his eyes closed as the first wave of lassitude washed over him, the fire turning into a numbing calm that forced him down and blanketing him a warm black.
</p><p>
<b>Test Subject Zero-Seven : Nicky<br/>
-Session 12<br/>
-Excerpt</b>
</p><p>
“No! You took me! Yusuf would never leave me here.” Nicky proclaimed struggling against the tight grip on his biceps. “He wouldn’t! He promised I would never have to be alone! That we would always go together! He promised, so he couldn’t have left me here! You took me away! I know you did, why are you lying?” 
</p><p>
“Nicky, you are just confused. You know the treatments cloud your mind.” Dr. Reardon explained softly and placed a calming hand on Nicky’s forehead and frowned when he felt an unnatural warmth there. “You are running a fever…”
 </p><p>
“Please, I just want to go home. I don’t like it here.” Nicky whispered, his breath coming out in harsh gasps from having over exerted himself in a vain attempt to break free from the arms around him. 
</p><p>
The aged Doctor in his white coat sighed and brushed sweat soaked bangs from Nicky's forehead. The gentle act sending a longing through Nicky for a different place, different hands. “You can’t leave yet, you know this. Yusuf wants you to get stronger, to be better. If you left now you would only disappoint him.”
</p><p>
Nicky couldn’t help the sob that escaped him or the way his eyes watered and chin quivered. He gave one last half-hearted effort to pull free from the arms restraining him. “But… but he promised.”
</p><p>
<b>Test Subject Zero-Seven: Nicky<br/>
-Session 23<br/>
-Excerpt</b>
</p><p>
“How are you feeling today, Nicky?”
</p><p>
“I think,” Nicky started before clearing his throat and trying again. His eyes wandering around the room staring at various objects that caught his attention. “I think you made a mistake.”
</p><p>
“A mistake?”
</p><p>
At the question, Nicky turned towards Dr. Reardon with a slight nod. “Yes, I feel… that is to say.” Nicky scrunched his face up, his thoughts kept fleeing from him, running away, leaking from his ears. Thoughts were slippery like that, he realized. Afraid he would lose more of them he tilted his head to the side and shoved his index finger into his left ear and sighed in contentment. He wouldn’t lose anymore, he could keep his thoughts safe now.
</p><p>
“Nicky? Is something the matter?”
</p><p>
Nicky blinked, eyes focused on some faraway point that only he could see. “They keep trying to run away from me. I have to stop them or I won’t be able to think anymore, will be just a jumbled mess of words without context or meaning.”
</p><p>
Dr. Reardon looked flabbergasted, “Of course.” He cleared his throat and continued on, “You mentioned a mistake?”
</p><p>
“Your project, I…I don’t think I’m right for it.”
</p><p>
“Oh?”
</p><p>
“Yes,” Nicky answered and let his hand fall from his ear with a nod, “I’m supposed to be getting better but I’m not… broken.”
</p><p>
“Broken? Why do you believe that?” Dr. Reardon questioned watching as his subject looked from him to the security camera situated in a corner on the wall. He watched as Nicky leaned forward seemingly enthralled with the machine and its blinking red light before the man turned his gaze back towards him
</p><p>
“Dr. Sondermann, she thinks I’m broken, that my blueprint is wrong. God read it backwards and got the epigenetics wrong, he changed the assembly, the structure.”
</p><p>
“Did she tell you this?” Curious, he thought Dr. Sondermann kept to herself.
</p><p>
Nicky gave a smile that was all teeth and turned back towards the camera, “She didn’t have too.”
</p><p>
<b>Test Subject Zero-Seven: Nicky<br/>
-Session 28<br/>
-Excerpt</b>
</p><p>
“Nicky, is something wrong?”
</p><p>
Nicky narrowed his eyes at the small missing spec of plaster on the wall, a frown etched into his features. “I see a girl, she’s crying.”
</p><p>
“A crying child? There are no children here.”
</p><p>
Nicky sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward in annoyance, “She <em>was</em> here. Not here anymore. Silent now - can’t cry anymore.”
</p><p>
Dr. Reardon wrote something on the paper of his clipboard and quietly asked, “Why can’t she cry anymore?”
</p><p>
“She was too noisy.” Nicky explained, “Doctor’s didn’t like it. Made the other’s restless. Took her to the special room, room where the eyes watch, where you are torn apart, cut up for study purposes. She screamed and squalled, cried out, begged for them to stop, didn’t understand what was going on.” 
</p><p>
Nicky flitted his gaze to the Doctor, something shining bright and emotional in his eyes before he turned back to the wall. He hugged his knees to his chest in an attempt to comfort himself from the horrible echo of the ghost of a girl. “You were trying to make her see, make her hear what can’t be heard. Something went wrong and you cut too deep. She was dying and the eyes were angry, all that work for nothing.”
</p><p>
Dr. Reardon smirked and tapped his pen against the clipboard, “You realize everything you just related to me is true?”
</p><p>
“Can I see them now?” Nicky asked softly, resting his chin on the top of his knees.
</p><p>
“If you write to them, I’ll be sure-”
</p><p>
“NO!” Nicky shouted, shoving himself up from the cold tiled floor and glaring at the Doctor, “I saw and I told! You said once I was… once I was better, I would get to… get to see him-<em>them!</em>” He screamed hands clenched into fists.
</p><p>
The Doctor set down his pen and spoke gently and quietly, almost as if he was trying to calm a spooked animal. “You know that Yusuf - <em>the others</em> - can’t risk being seen here. They would only be hurt, you don’t want them hurt do you?” 
</p><p>
Nicky deflated at that, slowly sinking back down to the floor and hugging his knees to his chest. “No.”
</p><p>
“Of course you don’t Nicky. You care too much to allow harm to come to them.”
</p><p>
Nicky sobbed as he rested his forehead against the top of his knees. Heart aching from being separated from his loved ones for too long, from not knowing if they had given up on him as they had Quynh, had Booker… If they thought him lost and unfindable. 
</p><p>
“Your family would be very proud for putting their safety ahead of your own, Nicky. I promise as soon as you’re ready you will be reunited with them.”
</p><p>
From the safety of his knees, Nicky murmured, “Never going to be ready.”
</p><p>
“You will be.” Dr. Reardon assured, “Sooner than you think.”
</p><p>
<b>Test Subject Zero-Seven: Nicky<br/>
-Session 47<br/>
-Excerpt 1</b>
</p><p>
“You… you said I was here to get… to become better. You said it.” Nicky accused, rocking back and forth while he focused on the white coat that Dr. Reardon was wearing.
</p><p>
“And you’ve made wondrous progress but still did not answer my question. Why did you punch the orderly?
</p><p>
“My head hurt.” Nicky’s voice cracked as he thought back to the horrid thinky-thoughts that had filled him so completely in the presence of the orderly. The man had been so full of demons and innuendo and such a horrid greasy blackness that Nicky’s head had hurt so much he thought it would split open and spill all the secrets contained within all over the floor.
</p><p>
Dr. Reardon gave his charge an exasperated look, “And you feel this was a sufficient reason to knock him unconscious?”
</p><p>
“He was duplicitous.” Nicky answered honestly, his attention turning to his bare feet watching in fascination as he wiggled his toes to and fro. “He was full of tumors and pus. Needed to be cut open, cured, relieved of his malignancy, punching him was easier.”
</p><p>
“Nicky, I understand that you are feeling-” 
</p><p>
“No idea what I feel… you hide behind your board of clips and… and your glasses made of sand. You’re just a symptom, a pair….parasite feasting on others. Sucking at their knowledge in an inane attempt to understand what can’t be comprehood...hended. Comprehended. But there’s nothing to see. It’s all an open wound that won’t heal. It runs rampant, perverts everything it comes into contact with. Taints it. Like spoilt milk.”
</p><p>
With a sigh of resignation, Dr. Reardon rubbed at his tired eyes unsure of how to reply to the string of incoherent gibberish that Nicky was spewing forth. He had a feeling tonight was going to be a long night and he wasn’t sure he was up for it.
</p><p>
Eyes as green as a forest of trees flitted up to the man, a small smile pulling at Nicky’s lips, “You’re doing good work here aren’t you Doctor?”
</p><p>
Dr. Reardon swallowed nervously at the question, unnerved and unsure how to answer, the doctor adjusted the lapels of his white lab coat and continued to take notes. 
</p><p>
<b>Test Subject Zero-Seven: Nicky<br/>
-Session 47<br/>
-Excerpt 2</b>
</p><p>
“Nobody will give me a mission!” Nicky shouted in outrage, his fists pounding against the metal of the table top.
</p><p>
“Nicky, we’ve gone over this. You still have many more treatments to undergo before you are deemed suitable.”
</p><p>
Nicky shook his head in denial. “But I’m here for a reason! I am reason… reasonable! You brought me here for… for… for something.’ Nicky had to pause for a second to catch his thoughts. His memory was tricky these days. The images of things past were playing hide and seek with him. It was hard to remember what was his and what was the others.
</p><p>
“I can assure you Nicky, you were brought here with a purpose in mind and you are doing spectacularly. When it is deemed time you will be given your mission.”
</p><p>
Suddenly Nicky cried out in pain, his body falling onto the table in a screech of agony. “It doesn’t like this body! It hates it! It wants a purpose - <em>a meaning</em>!”
</p><p>
Dr. Reardon stood suddenly, calling for the orderlies as he made his way around the table.
</p><p>
“It wont accept it! Get it out! Get it out of me! Cut it out! You have to cut it out!” Nicky cried out as the two orderlies made their way into the room to help subdue him. 
</p><p>
<b>Test Subject Zero-Seven: Nicky<br/>
-Session 63<br/>
-Excerpt</b>
</p><p>
“How are you, Nicky? You have been quiet these last few sessions. Is everything alright?”
</p><p>
Nicky stared up at the man from his spot on the floor. His eyes watching the way the Doctors pen danced across the paper clipped to the ever present clipboard 
</p><p>
“You seem more relaxed these past few days. I understand Doctor Idris has taken quite the interest in you.”
</p><p>
Nicky lazily rolled his head back against the wall, his attention coming to rest on the blinking light of the security camera. 
</p><p>
“You should be proud of what you have accomplished here, Nicky. Your gift has allowed us to achieve something only humans can dream of. A few more tests and you should-...”
</p><p>
Nicky tuned out the Doctor's useless words and continued to stare at the flashing light of the camera, counting the seconds between each bright blink of color.
</p><p>
<b>Test Subject Zero-Seven: Nicky<br/></b>


-Session 65<br/>
-Excerpt

</p><p>
“Nicky?”
</p><p>
Said man’s head tilted to the side and stared questioningly at the newcomer before him. “Not, Reardon?”
</p><p>
“No, I’m not.” Dr. Idris confirmed as he placed a hand on Nicky’s shoulder and kneeled down to be eye level with him. “But how would you like to go home?”
</p><p>
Nicky’s eyes brightened instantly at the idea, “Home?”
</p><p>
“Yes, I think your family will be proud of the progress you’ve made but first I need you to complete a mission for me, can you do that?”
</p><p>
At Nicky’s eager nod, Dr. Idris just grinned and patted the young man's knee. “Good, good. That’s wonderful to hear.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. I've Got You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 7:</p><p>Support | <b>Carrying</b> | Enemy to caretaker</p><p>Nile watched telenovella's when she's sick and Booker is the best ever.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh My Gosh, I think this is the shortest response to a whumptober prompt I have done. Kind of proud of myself to be honest, lol. Not really whump-ish but it's what my muse decided on.</p><p>And look! </p><p>A wild Booker appeared!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“S’not fair.” Nile mumbled petulantly from her spot on the worn down couch, her voice drifting out from underneath her cocoon of fluffy blankets. What was the point of being immortal if an everyday virus could still knock you on your ass? She silently wondered with a sniffle, her nose tickling in warning before she sneezed so hard her eyes watered. “This suuuuucks.”</p><p>
“Just because we heal, kid, doesn’t mean we don’t get sick.”
</p><p>
Nile pulled down the covers from over her head and glared at Booker and his stupid bottle of tylenol and his stupid glass of water that his stupid unsick face brought her. 
</p><p>
“Tylenol will help, you’ll feel better by the end of day.” Booker explained, holding out two of the tiny tablets and the water, “Probably.” He amended, trying not to laugh when Nile snuck a hand out from under the covers and quickly snatched the pills from him, tossing them back and chasing them with the glass of water. 
</p><p>
Booker picked up Niles swathed legs and situated himself on the couch before settling the younger woman’s legs across his thighs. “So, what’re we watching?”
</p><p>
“Some telenovela that the remedial Spanish course that I took in highschool did not prepare me for.”
</p><p>
Booker hummed softly, watching as some woman with gravity defying hair and an overt fondness for leopard print was backhanded down a flight of stairs to very dramatic music. “So, what exactly is going on?”
</p><p>
“Well,” Nile started, bending her legs and pushing against the end of the couch as she shifted to get into a more comfortable position. “Renaldo apparently can’t keep his dick in his pants and slept with both Violeta and Lucia but turns out - <em>I think</em> - he got Lucia pregnant and Violeta apparently thinks Renaldo’s dick is a gift from God and so she’s trying to kill Lucia - <em>possibly…</em> Or, Violeta is just extremely unhappy with her cell phone carrier and has anger management issues, it’s honestly a toss up.”
</p><p>
Booker <em>hmm’d</em>, his hands kneading at Niles blanketed feet watching as her eyes began to droop, the bottom of her face disappearing from view as she burrowed into her blanket cocoon. “That feels nice.” 
</p><p>
He kept quiet, deft hands gently pressing and rubbing against the balls of Nile’s feet watching out of the corner of his eye as Nile snuffled softly before her eyes finally slipped shut.
</p><p>
“Let’s get you in an actual bed, kid.” Booker murmured with a gentle shake to Nile’s legs.
</p><p>
Nile whimpered and shook her head, “Don’ wanna move, comfy.”
</p><p>
“You’ll rest easier in an actual bed.” Booker tried to reason but sighed when a nasally snore drifted from the otherside of the couch. He sighed and gently pushed Nile’s feet off his thighs and stood. Booker pursed his lips for a moment before he seemed to come to some sort of decision. He reached down and gathered Nile - blankets and all - into his arms and made his way down the hall towards the bedroom he knew Nile had claimed as hers.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Where did Everybody Go?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 8:<br/><b>“Don’t say good-bye”</b> | <b>Abandoned</b> | Isolation</p><p>“I will never say my final good-byes, Nico. Please never ask that of me. If I do, I will have abandoned the one person who made this world worth living.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This takes place pre-movie, right around the time the team starts dreaming of Booker.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Andy,” Nicolò started, voice as soft and as gentle as the comforting squeeze to his sister’s shoulder, “it's been nearly 300 years, no God would be so cruel as to have someone continue to suffer such tragedy.”</p><p>
Andy shrugged Nicolò’s arm off and rounded on the younger man, his honeyed words of solace sitting sour on her stomach and igniting a fire within that she long thought she had smothered. “No God would be so cruel?” She hissed, hands clenched at her sides as she fought the urge to harm the man she called brother with her fists, instead using bitter words to inflict wounds. “You are one to speak of God’s cruelties, Nicolò.”
</p><p>
“Andromache…” 
</p><p>
The soft plea seemed to only annoy her more, fueling her rage at the world for taking someone so precious from her, robbing her of her love-her reason for her continued existence, “Let’s talk about how cruel God can be, shall we? How cruel was your God to send you to slaughter men-women-<em>children</em> in his name? To pillage and burn because <em>he</em> felt threatened? How many times did your sword taste the sweet blood of innocent people-<em>sing</em> for the deaths of those your God perceived heathens?”
</p><p>
Nicolò flinched at the words and swallowed against the shame gripping his throat. He went to speak but thought better of it. Though Yusuf had long since absolved him of his past sins, he still fought an internal battle, some nights he’d still awaken to the echo of those he had run through. Their dying words were a vitriol that would leave him breathing ragged, awash in a cold sweat until Yusuf’s strong hands would rub against the tightness in his chest and whisper quiet words of peace against his ear.  Nicolò cleared his throat and swiped a cold hand against his warm eyes. “We dock in the morning. Yusuf and I are headed towards France after. Our new brother is there, scared and alone dying day after day…”
</p><p>
“I will not abandon her!”
</p><p>
Nicolò held his hands up in surrender, “Never would I ask that of you but we can help this Sébastien. Does he deserve to hang because we refuse to acknowledge our own limitations?”
</p><p>
Andy narrowed her eyes at Nicolò and turned her back to him, gaze set upon the sun as it sank low into the horizon casting a beautiful mix of orange, pink, and reds over the vast sea and shadowing the approaching land in a misshapen darkness. 
</p><p>
“We hope you will come with us. Quynh would not want you to grieve her absence.” Nicolò tried to reason. He had hoped she would turn to look at him once more, say something to him to acknowledge his words but his only reply was the heaving of her shoulders. Nicolò sighed and made to turn back towards the bowels of the ship but stopped when he heard Andromache inhale sharply. 
</p><p>
“Would you do so for Yusuf? Grieve him and think him lost to the sea? If it were him, would you leave him to the fate he’d been dealt, Nicolò?”
</p><p>
Nicolò crossed his arms, guilt coursing through him like lead, weighing him down. “You know my answer, we’ve had this conversation many times past.” 
</p><p>
Andromache let her head fall to her chest, “Then why ask of me what you yourself will not even think to do.”
</p><p>
“I’m not asking for you to stop, to say your eulogy at her grave, I’m asking for you to take a break, sorellona. Help us find and protect this Sébastien. He must be so confused and alone in this scary new world he was reborn into.” 
</p><p>
“I can’t say good-bye, Nicolò. I-I can’t…” 
</p><p>
“I would never ask that of you.” Nicolò whispered sadly. He waited a few breaths hoping Andy would say something else but when the minutes ticked by with nothing, he nodded to himself. “Yusuf and I hope to see you when we depart, Goodnight Andromache.”
</p><p>
Nicolò headed back down into the small cabin the three of them shared, peeling his clothes off till he was in nothing but his under things.
</p><p>
“I can assume the conversation didn’t go well?”
</p><p>
Nicolò looked up in the dim candle light to his half asleep husband on the hammock and shook his head in the negative.
</p><p>
Yusuf sighed and scrubbed at his grit tired eyes before waving Nicolò to him, “Andromache is dealing with a broken heart, Habibi, and regardless of the path she decides for herself we will do what family does and support her.” 
</p><p>
Nicolò shuffled over to his and Yusuf’s shared hammock and settled down to lay against his husband, eyes straining in the darkness to see the door to their cabin and hoping Andromache would make an appearance. “Of course we will but it does not take away the pain of failure. If Quynh is still alive down there living and dying by her breath, I-...”
</p><p>
Nicolò quieted when a gentle shush came from behind him and was followed by the gentle press of lips against the side of his neck. “We cannot think like that, it would only lead down a dark path. We have a long trek ahead of us Hayati, let’s get some shut eye.” 
</p><p>
Nicolò hmm’d and snuggled against Yusuf before allowing himself to calm and slip away to sleep.
</p><p>
Nicolò woke the next morning to see Andromache sitting on a crate across from him, her head resting on pad of her thumbs, teeth gnawing at her index finger. 
</p><p>
“Andro-...”
</p><p>
“I’ll go,” She interrupted him, letting her hands fall to rest between her knees, “if for nothing else than his dreams. If she’s still alive he will be dreaming about her. This Sébastien is my last hope at finding her.”
</p><p>
“Thank you.” Nicolò replied sincerely.
</p><p>
“I will never say my final good-byes, Nico. Please never ask that of me. If I do, I will have abandoned the one person who made this world worth living.”
</p><p>
Nicolò looked at Yusuf’s still sleeping form in understanding, “I would never, if I do you have my permission to lay me out.”
</p><p>
Andy nodded and stood, “Get dressed we have a Frenchman to go rescue.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Did I write a sad? I think I wrote a sad...😭</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. For the Greater Good</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 9:<br/>Take me instead |<b> Run</b> | Ritual Sacrifice</p><p>He coughed to cover his chuckle when his companion glared up at him, Nicolò smiled innocently at the hard set to Yusuf’s lips. “Problem?”</p><p>“I’m staring at one.” Yusuf grumbled.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>No real whump in this and most likely not what the prompt was calling for but it's what came about. This is just Joe and Nicky recanting the time they were shackled together and being chased through the woods.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Run!” Yusuf shouted with a hard yank to the chain that bound him wrist-to-wrist to Nicolò behind him. "Quickly, this way!"</p><p>
Nicolò dug his heels in and shook his head, pulling back against Yusuf. “<em>No</em>, if we go that way they will be able to cut us off.” With his free hand he pointed off to their left through a thicket of trees and underbrush. “This way would be best, we would be able to hide in the dense forestry.”
</p><p>
Yusuf gave the chain a harsh tug, “Or, we will be animals waiting for slaughter, is that what you wish?”
</p><p>
“Of course not!”  
</p><p>
Yusuf rolled his eyes at the indignant tone and bowed mockingly, his words sarcastically polite “Then this way, if you ever so please.”
</p><p>
“Dio dammi la forza di sopportare quest’uomo.” Nicolò murmured with a look heavenward before he started forward yanking a little too forcefully on their shared bonds and hiding a slight smirk when he noticed Yusuf stumble and say something in one of the many languages he was still not familiar with but the tone leaving nothing to translate-he was being named something rather rude in a foreign tongue. 
</p><p>
He coughed to cover his chuckle when his companion glared up at him, Nicolò smiled innocently at the hard set to Yusuf’s lips. “Problem?”
</p><p>
“I’m staring at one.” Yusuf grumbled before he shook his head in exasperation and started forward, the sound of hounds howling in the distance echoing ominously behind them. “The river will hide our scent” 
</p><p>
“I have never been killed by dogs before.” Nicolò commented moments later, “Do you suppose it would be excruciating?”
</p><p>
Yusuf paused and looked over his shoulder at Nicolò with a furrowed brow, “Why would you even ask something like that?”
</p><p>
“We have died many deaths, Yusuf.” Nicolò started, stepping over a downed tree branch to stand shoulder to shoulder with his friend, “Most of those we have inflicted on eachother, a few due to carelessness, many because we have starved of thirst or hunger. I’m just morbidly curious, I suppose.”
</p><p>
“You would die of blood loss or shock before anything, they tend to go for the neck to disable their prey.” At the sour look on Nicolò’s face, Yusuf continued, “If the dog is big enough it would crush your windpipe, not a pleasant end but a quick one.”
</p><p>
“Sorry I asked.” Nicolò said regretfully, eyes flicking to their shackled hands, brushing his pinky hesitantly against Yusuf’s. “And sorry we are in this mess, I feel as though it’s my fault.”
</p><p>
Yusuf sighed and shook his head. “It is as much mine as it is yours. I should have told you what the man had said instead of finding amusement in your confusion. You did not mean to be disrespectful and any merchant worth his name would know how to communicate with their patrons instead of calling for guards in the face of dubiety.”
</p><p>
The howl of the hounds chasing them broke up their apologies, the reminder of their pursuers reverberating through the forest around them and starting them forward once more. 
</p><p>
“The river should be close.” Yusuf explained as he ducked to avoid a low hanging branch before glancing over his shoulder to make sure Nicolò missed the branch as well. “Once there we can use the water and mud to mask our scent. Then it’s just a matter of waiting for the guards to become bored and leave.”
</p><p> 
“So, never then, as simple minded as they appeared.” Nicolò explained and the chuckle he received in reply to his comment sent a pleasant warmth through him that had a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. As much as he enjoyed jovially harassing Yusuf, he had to admit he would be lost without the older man to guide him. The world outside of the monastery he grew up in and subsequent seminary he’d studied at had been eye opening in the face of his secluded youth. He had learned so much in the few decades he’d been traveling with Yusuf than any Lector or Sacrist had taught him during his education. 
</p><p>
“Let us hope they are more than feeble minded simpletons and have other duties to attend to than the whereabouts of two trouble making foreigners.” 
</p><p>
Another howl, this time closer, broke through the quiet of the forest and forced the two of them to pick up their pace to a jog, the chain binding them wrist-to-wrist clanking loudly between them as they rushed through underbrush and lept over downed trees and bushes alike.
</p><p>
It was minutes or hours, Nicolò was unsure, but when they finally broke the tree line it was to the sight of brilliant turquoise-blue rapids rushing and burbling over water worn rocks as it sped down river towards a bend in the stream.
</p><p>
“We must jump in.” Yusuf explained quickly as he made his way towards the river bed only to be stopped short by Nicolò pulling at their tether. 
</p><p>
“We will be swept away by the current.” The younger man tried to reason, eyes staring at the frothing waters before them uncertain. 
</p><p>
“Trust me?” Yusuf asked quietly, offering his open hand to Nicolò, who stared at it for half a moment before lacing their fingers together and jumping towards the river.
</p><p>
~Oo~oO~
</p><p>
“So did it work?”
</p><p>
Joe grinned at Nile’s question and looked towards Nicky, who sighed heavily before replying. “It did, but not before Joe made me disrobe and cover myself head to toe in mud and leaves.”
</p><p>
“It was to hide our scent, Habibi!” Joe tried to reason, brown eyes sparkling in mischief. 
</p><p>
Nicky rolled his eyes, “I didn’t need to be naked for it to work, <em>Hayati</em>.”
</p><p>
“Would you rather have had to wash your clothes after?”
</p><p>
“No but I would also have preferred not to have picked mud out of some rather uncomfortable places.”
</p><p>
Nile’s eyes flicked back and forth from Joe to Nicky as the two bickered, reminding her of her Nana and Pawpaw arguing about whatever trivial thing happened to be up for discussion between them at the time. It was cute.
</p><p>
“What are they arguing about now?” Andy asked when she entered the living room, her hands peeling the rind of an orange she was carrying.
</p><p>
“The time Joe let Nicky make a scene at the marketplace forever ago.” Nile answered, turning away from the two men as their sparring of words became kisses and overly sweet pleasantries. She’d been around long enough now to know the signs of an ensuing make-out session that would most likely-given the two people in question-turn into smexy time. Nile stood and headed towards Andy ignoring the quiet mewling moans behind her, “Wanna see a movie?”
</p><p>
“Sure, Kid.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Italian used in this fic:</p><p>Dio dammi la forza di sopportare quest’uomo - God give me strength to endure this man.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. They Look So Pretty When They Bleed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 10:<br/>Blood Loss | <b>Internal bleeding</b> | <b>Trail of blood</b></p><p>Yusuf gets caught in an explosion leaving Nicky to frantically follow him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please skip the first few sentences if the description of burning flesh makes you uncomfortable, it's nothing graphic but it is there. And the internal bleeding is implied but never overtly stated.</p><p>Happy reading! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>An acrid sting assaulted his nose, the nauseating sweet pungent smell of burning flesh coating the back of his throat. He tried to swallow against the suffocating taste but his tongue felt too thick for his mouth, swollen in a way that had him coughing and gagging against the foreign feeling. He stumbled forward, faint flashes of precious stones of green-like those you’d find diving breathlessly into the ocean to procure- shone bright against the overwhelming dark that surrounded him, the faint tickle of a name caressed against his memory in the way a lovers hands brushed soft and sure against honeyed skin but he couldn’t seem to grasp the familiar intonation, couldn’t make his tongue form the name that was haunting his senses.</p><p>
He gurgled against the heat in his throat and continued to stumble forward like an arthritic geriatric. He felt himself blink against the harsh bite of smoke but still found himself navigating through an eerie world of all encompassing black. Blind to everything around him but the heat licking against his skin, the ache of his body, and the saccharine overpowering smell of burning. 
</p><p>
He needed to find <em>him</em>. He <em>had</em> to. If he was this lost to the world around him, confused in all things, then...then <em>he</em> must be so scared and worried. He went to step forward when something caught against his leg and had him gripping the wall frantically for support while he worked to maintain his balance. 
</p><p>
He opened his mouth to shout but something pulled tight against the action, needles of pain striking hot and heavy against his nerves and pushing him to lean stiffly against the wall, a keening wail escaping him-the quiet call to anyone listening that he was here, he was coming. 
</p><p>
<em>“Yusuf!”</em> 
</p><p>
He jerked at the ghostly echo and turned too quickly, his feet becoming tangled with the debris on the ground and sending him careening forward. He gave a choked burble of surprise when he crashed into the ground, his hands pawing at the rubble littering the ground around him trying to find something to use against the haunting voice. He couldn’t let anything get past him, <em>he</em> was here somewhere and he needed to protect <em>him</em>. He couldn’t…
</p><p>
Trembling fingers curled around something burning and spikey.
</p><p>
He couldn’t let... 
</p><p>
His fingers loosened and his mind settled as the dark that surrounded him dragged him down into a quiet agony.
</p><p>
~Oo~o~oO~
</p><p>
“Yusuf!” Nicky shouted, breathless against the worry gnawing hungrily at his anxiety ridden thoughts. He ducked under a downed support beam and shoved against a torn and charred couch that blocked his path as he fought his way forward. 
</p><p>
He had been in the car when the explosion had rocked the motel he and Joe had been staying at for the weekend. He’d barely had a chance to scream before the aftershock of the detonation slammed his head against the driver’s side window, he’d woken moments later to a horrid ringing in his ears and someone shoving the door to the car open and dragging him out. He’d pushed against worried hands and eager to help passersby and scrambled towards the burning building, Joe’s name a breath of air stuck in his throat. A litany of nonono<em>nono</em> tumbling from him instead as he clambered into the ramshackle building. A million horrible outcomes fueling him forward.
</p><p>
And now here he was moments later staring at a smeared and bloodied handprint on a half smoldered wall. “Joe?”
</p><p>
Something clattered ahead of him, Nicky swallowed down his nervousness, the faint <em>this could be it</em>, following his anxiety and sending a shiver of worry down his spine. He took a hesitant step forward, eyes trailing the bloodied print to flick towards another smudged splotch of red just a few steps ahead.  
</p><p>
“Yusuf!” He cried out when a shadow moved a few feet in front of him, the sound of grating metal and half formed words drifting back towards him. The soft gurgle of a voice sending him scrambling towards the darkened outline, hissing when his hand blistered at the touch of hot metal and wood that he’d shoved out of his way in his panic to reach the shadow. 
</p><p>
“Yusuf-<em>Joe!</em>” 
</p><p>
Nicky skidded to a stop, his breath a shallow wheeze against the thick warm air of the corridor he was standing in. The sight of Joe a harsh reality of how close his husband had been to the explosion. He knelt beside the charred and burnt form of his love, hands hovering over the exposed portion of Joe’s skull that was stark white against the grit and grime covering the rest of him. He looked towards the reddened and inflamed skin of Joe’s hands, fingers twitching in restraint.
</p><p>
“Oh, Joe.” He murmured in quiet sadness. He settled against the ground and gently-feather light- brushed a hand over Joe’s cheek. “Come back to me, Hayati.”
</p><p>
Nicky watched, the skin around exposed bone slowly knitting itself back together, and prayed as Joe seemed to lean into the soft caress. He could hear shouts from far away and the sound of sirens screeching echoing somewhere in the distance but he kept his attention on Joe. 
</p><p>
He could see Joe’s eyes twitch and his jaw working to form faint words but no air to voice them. It was enough, it was enough to prove that the world was not so cruel as to steal Joe away from him just yet. Nicky breathed a sigh of relief, a loopy adrenaline fueled smile spreading across his features.
</p><p>
”There you are.” He whispered hand reaching to settle over Joe's heart, relishing in the soft lub-dub he felt there.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am going to try and get as many prompts as I can done these next few days before Halloween with the plan to hopefully have this challenge completely done by next weekend. Fingers Crossed! :)</p><p>Thank you all for the subscriptions, kudos, and comments, you have no idea how much they brighten my day!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Psych 101</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 11:<br/>Defiance | <b>Struggling</b> | Crying</p><p>Qunyh just wants her Andromache and Booker just wants to go home because he's a grieving sad boi.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mentions of drowning in this chapter so please skip the last paragraph if you need to :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s horrible, is it not?” Booker pulled weakly against his bound arms, breath haggard as he choked and wheezed against the burn of his waterlogged lungs. He blinked against the itch of water dripping from his lashes and looked up to the blurry figure in red hovering over him.“You think to yourself, <em>if I just hold on for a bit longer, just a tiny bit more it will pass</em> but your body betrays your mind.”</p><p>
He hated the way he flinched when the woman knelt next to him, her dark eyes soft in light of her previous actions and her hands soft and kind as she swiped his wet bangs from his forehead and tucked them behind his ears. “You thrash and beg-plead-<em>scream</em> but you cannot stop the inevitable, that first rush of cold, the stinging ache as your body relinquishes…there’s nothing like it.” 
</p><p>
Booker swallowed, breath quickening from uncertainty when the woman suddenly stood and stepped out of his line of sight. He clenched his hands tight, flexing his muscles to find any weakness in the rough rope wrapped seemingly endlessly around his wrists and forearms pulling his shoulders taught and bowing his back. 
</p><p>
“You think-<em>pray</em>-it will be the last time. That whoever cursed us with this <em>gift</em>would show mercy and let it end.” Booker stilled his efforts to undo his bonds when he felt nails scratch at his skull and fingers tug at his hair before gripping the soaked strands tight and pulling harshly. Booker hissed as his head was jerked back and the shadowed face of the woman who had haunted his dreams for the last two hundred years stared down at him in pity. 
</p><p>
“I am not your creator, Booker, but I can be your mercy.” Quynh whispered, hand tight in his hair as she leaned down, the warmth of her breath tickling his ear as she asked, “Where is my Andromache?”
</p><p>
He tried to laugh, a strained croaking sound that resounded through the small room. Of all the things she could ask, it was the one question he couldn’t answer. “I-I don’t know.”
</p><p>
Quynh untangled her hand from Booker's hair, an unnatural wail breaking from her as she shook her head in earnest, “Liar! You lie! To me, your sister!” 
</p><p>
<em>Sister.</em> Booker let his head fall to rest against his chest, the word sending a hollow ache through him. If there was one thing these last few months alone had helped him to understand was that family was everything. That he was still grieving the life that time had stolen from him and in his pain had latched onto Andy’s own perceived familial failure to help fuel his unresolved loss as they chased their shared grief in the bottom of a bottle. He swore he’d make things right if given the opportunity. He’d repent for his past sins and beg for his families forgiveness on bended knee if they’d only let him come home.
</p><p>
“You will remember.” Quynh swore and kicked him between the shoulders sending him tumbling forward over the edge of the bathtub his hands jerking against the ropes and feet scrabbling against the tile to try and find purchase to push himself free of this relentless torture. 
</p><p>
“You will lead me home, Booker.” She murmured her hand trailing delicately up his back to shove against the back of his head to hold him still under the cold water of the tub until his struggles slowed and his body finally stilled beneath her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*Determined face* I will get this challenge done!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. I think I've Broken Something</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 12:<br/>Broken down | <b>Broken bones</b> | Broken trust</p><p>Andy breaks her foot and yet somehow the entire team is suffering (from embarrassment mind you)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Soooo much crack in this chapter, do not treat this as anything resembling serious content.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s just a broken foot!” Andy shouted in exasperation, her hands pounding against Joe’s butt. “Let me down!”</p><p>
“Andromache-<em>Andy</em>, you can’t walk on a broken foot.” Joe admonished as he hefted Andy up to settle more comfortably on his shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around her thighs to keep her from falling.  “I know you are getting along in years but surely you remember how painful it is to walk on broken bones?”
</p><p>
“Was that an old joke?” Andy asked over Nile and Nicky’s snickering. She jerked her head up sharply and pointed aggressively towards the heathens walking behind her and Joe. “You hush!  I’ll deal with the two of you in a second!” Poking Joe hard in the flesh over his kidney, she asked, “Did you <em>seriously</em> just call me old!”
</p><p>
“Of course not, Boss. I would never dare call a lady such.”
</p><p>
Nicky grinned and piped up from behind the two, “What about Madam Maeve in New Orleans?” 
</p><p>
“Madam Maeve?” Nile asked turning from Nicky to stare at the back of Joe’s head with a raised brow.
</p><p>
“Oh, yes. I remember her!” Andy grinned, wincing when Joe smacked her ass to silence her. “Hey!”
</p><p>
Joe shook his head and continued to trek forward. “No one needs to hear the story of Madam Maeve and her delicate sensibility.”
</p><p>
“That woman was anything but delicate.” Nicky murmured, grinning innocently when Joe stopped in his tracks and turned to glare with pursed lips at his husband.
</p><p>
Nile waved a hand to get the group's attention, her curiosity now definitely piqued. “Madam Maeve?”
</p><p>
Andy kneed Joe in his stomach with her good leg before rolling her eyes, “A very sweet old lady who let us stay for free at the brothel she ran in New Orleans in the 1850’s, I think? She kept trying to woo Little Mister Yusuf here. Kept confusing him with her long dead husband…it was cute and on the plus side as horny as that woman was her husband probably died happy.”
</p><p>
“Oh God,” Nile squeezed her eyes closed as the mental image of a naked Joe and some random woman getting it on popped unwillingly into her mind. “Brain bleach! Brain Bleach!”
</p><p>
“You asked.” Andy said with a grin and an awkward upside down shrug. “Anyways, when Joe came back to the room we were occupying the very generous elderly lady was buck-ass naked in Joe’s bed and he might have <em>possibly</em> called her an old biddy and <em>maybe</em> a few other un-delicate pleasantries that got us kicked out of the brothel <em>and</em> The French Quarter for-<em>what</em>? Twenty years?”
</p><p>
“Twenty-five.” Joe corrected with a heavy sigh before he continued walking again and hoping their rental van would be over the crest of the hill they were on, “Can we please not talk about Madam Maeve?” 
</p><p>
“Don’t feel bad Joe, we’ve all got stories like Maeve.” Andy comforted with a soft pat to Joe’s rear. “Remember the Archbishop of Canterbury?”
</p><p>
Nicky blanched and shook his head pleadingly, “Please, I beg you Andy, do not...”
</p><p>
“But, Nicky!” Andy replied with a little too much cheer, “He was so very fond of your ass, I think he wrote a psalm abou-OW! Seriously, Joe!” Andy hissed hand reaching to rub at her thigh where Joe had pinched it.
</p><p>
Joe grinned innocently, “I think we have traumatized poor Nile enough for one day with the recantings of those that have been smitten with us. And, look! Our rental van.”
</p><p>
Andy sighed and crossed her arms against Joe’s low back and rested her head against them, wincing when the throb from her broken foot started to make itself known again. “This sucks…”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have three more ready to go but I have work today so I wont be able to format them till later tonight when I get home and then I do have a spooky-halloweenesque one started and I am hoping by the end of tomorrow I will be up to chapter 20 of this, how good will the fics be content and grammar wise, lord only knows, lol.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Breathe In, Breathe Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 13:<br/>Delayed drowning | Chemical Pneumonia | <b>Oxygen Mask</b></p><p>Nicky looked up sharply, “And that makes everything better? Booker was right.” He whispered sadly as leaned back against the hard plastic back of the chair, nervous hands running through his hair to rest at the back of his head, fingers laced together. “We have always had each other, what do we know of loneliness.”</p><p>“That’s not fair, Hayati. We have lost family, have left those we loved in heartbreak, our paths may have been different than either Booker's or even Andy’s but our hurt is no more or less than theirs.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
She just looked so fragile, the white of her skin seemingly so delicate that Joe was afraid the slightest of touch would rupture the blue of her twisting and winding veins and leave behind a bright marring bruise. It was surreal, almost as if it was someone else lying prone in the hospital bed and not the woman he’d thought of as his sister for the last millennia. He wasn’t ready for this-<em>never would be ready for this</em>-and yet time had marched ever forward ticking down to the minutes Andy would meet Death at his door. He knew it would happen but he just thought they’d have longer-<em>more time</em>.
</p><p>
“Did you get a hold of him?” 
</p><p>
Joe turned at the soft question to see Nicky with his hands clasped together and head hung low sitting in the most uncomfortable looking chair imaginable beside Andy’s bed, the younger man’s foot bouncing nervously against the tiled floor. He shook his head in the negative and cleared his throat. “Nile is trying Copley, to see if he can track him down.”
</p><p>
“We shouldn’t have sent him away so long.” Nicky admonished, rubbing his thumbs over one another to try and warm his hands. “It was not fair to her.”
</p><p>
Joe sighed, he knew it wasn’t. He had even brought it up in quiet conversation with Andy who’d responded kindly-in that all knowing big sister way of hers- that Booker wasn’t the only one who needed penance. It was total bull, but he understood. He oftentimes wondered himself how he’d missed the signs of Booker’s unhappiness. Wasn’t sure how he’d mistaken the man’s melancholy for a defunct sense of humor and not for the grief it was. Hindsight and all that, he supposed.  “She agreed, though, Habibi.”
</p><p>
Nicky looked up sharply, “And that makes everything better? Booker was right.” He whispered sadly as leaned back against the hard plastic back of the chair, nervous hands running through his hair to rest at the back of his head, fingers laced together. “We have always had each other, what do we know of loneliness.” 
</p><p>
“That’s not fair, Hayati. We have lost family, have left those we loved in heartbreak, our paths may have been different than either Booker's or even Andy’s but our hurt is no more or less than theirs.”
</p><p>
Nicky sniffed and shook his head, despondent. “And, yet, we are not the one who will miss saying our final good-byes.” 
</p><p>
“Copley will find him, have faith, please, My Love.” Joe pleaded, watching as Nicky's arms fell to rest against denim covered thighs, the mans jaw ticking as he swallowed against the emotion that was shining bright in his green eyes. 
</p><p>
Nicky opened his mouth to speak but a loud beeping and the sound of a deep single tone shrieking through the small room had him standing instead, both him and Joe moving to hover over Andy’s bed as the woman floundered about, her mouth opening and closing frantically. 
</p><p>
“Andy!” Nicky shouted, his arms hanging unsure in the air as he turned panic-stricken eyes to Joe, pleading for his husband to tell him what he should do. Joe returned the stare as shaken as Nicky, wanting to help but not having the vaguest idea of what to do. Their answer came in the form of two patient care assistants gently trying to pull them from the bed so the nurse could get to Andy.
</p><p>
Nicky let himself be pulled from the room, his eyes never leaving Andy until the curtain was pulled around the hospital bed blocking the older woman from view. As soon as they were out of the room he turned to Joe with watery eyes, “It can't be her time. It can’t… She...she can’t. Not her too.”
</p><p>
“Nicolò.” Joe whispered his throat aching as he pulled Nicky close. “Andy won’t leave us unless she has no choice.”
</p><p>
Nicky nodded and wrapped his arms tightly around Joe, resting his head against his Love’s shoulder. 
</p><p>
Quiet moments ticked by before the soft call of the nurse had them turning to see a tired looking woman in blue scrubs standing in the doorway to Andy’s room. “Your sister is fine, I know the alarm sounds are always concerning but her oxygen dipped too low so we had to start 2 liters of oxygen to help stabilize her. She should be comfortable now. You can come back in, just make sure she leaves the oxygen mask in place.”
</p><p>
Nicky nodded towards the room and asked, “Will you sit with her? I’m going to go call Nile and see if she and Copley have found Booker.”
</p><p>
Joe nodded and watched Nicky walk away before he turned back towards Andy’s room with a sigh.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Instead of spam posting tomorrow, I'll wait and post everything I have written tomorrow evening after work and then hopefully finish up this series by next Friday. Thank you all who have read and continued to leave comments and kudos and thank you as well to all those that have subscribed to this series of one shots, it's definitely made my month! :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Is Something Burning?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 14:<br/>Branding | <b>Heat exhaustion</b> | Fire</p><p>“You have sun-sickness, you silly man.” Yusuf explained softly, his hands gently moving Nicolò’s own to rest against the fabric of the man’s shirt. “Hijen had to carry you the rest of the way to the springs.”</p><p>“Poor camel.” Nicolò murmured, his eyes drifting shut.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This takes place while Yusuf and Nicolò have been travelling for a long enough period they're friends but not long enough they're the awesome immortal warrior husbands we know and love. </p><p>Also, Hijen the Camel is my new favorite OC, even though she's only in this for like two seconds, lol.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nicolò could only assume that this was what the fires of hell felt like. The rays of the sun beating down against the red of his exposed skin while the scorching sand beneath him radiated an unbearable heat through the supple leather of his boots. He tried to take a breath hoping the air would help to cool him but the dry and barren air of the desert burned against his airway and seemed to rub his lungs raw, leaving him breathless and fevered instead. He shook as he rubbed at his sweat laden forehead. They had been walking for two days in this strenuous heat and he wasn’t sure he could manage another minute in this arid climate. He never thought he would long for the harsh winters of his homeland but in this atrocious weather he’d take the frigid ice and snow in a heartbeat.</p><p>
“Yusuf.” He pleaded, licking at his chapped lips to try and moisten them. His head felt funny, both cool and too hot at the same time and the headscarf he had wrapped around the crown of his head before they had started their week-long trek across the desert was starting to irritate the sweat soaked skin underneath.
</p><p>
“Yusuf!” He called out once more, a little stronger this time and was grateful when his companion stopped and turned towards him, the bright white and blue of the man’s scarf accentuating the beautiful brown of Yusuf’s eyes, reminding him almost of the bark of a Madrone tree with the way those deep rich earthy brown irises shone bright in the midday sun.. “A break, please, My Friend.”
</p><p>
“We cannot stop, our waterskins are almost depleted.” Yusuf explained his feet kicking up sand as he walked back towards Nicolò, his hands coming up to adjust the younger man’s scarf more to his liking. Yusuf squinted in the haze of the overbearing sun and took note of how red Nicolò’s cheeks appeared. He patted his friend on the shoulder and nodded back behind him towards their pack camel.  “The nearest spring is still a few hours trek from here. We will rest there.”
</p><p>
“The world is too bright and my head is splitting.” Nicolò tried to explain, his breath hot against his chapped lips.
</p><p>
Yusuf turned to look back towards their camel waiting patiently a few feet ahead of them, “You can ride Hijen, if you wish?”
</p><p>
“The camel hates me.” Nicolò replied in disdain the phantom ache to his rear a reminder of the many times Hijen the Camel had bucked him off. 
</p><p>
“She doesn’t hate you, Nico.” Yusuf explained with a laugh so carefree and pure that it had Nicolò smiling, “She just knows she’s stronger than you, so she thinks she knows best.”
</p><p>
Nicolò ducked his head in embarrassment at the notion of a camel knowing better than him. He had never had trouble with his horse back home, the mare had always been easy to steer and command, this camel was as stubborn as the day was long and twice as temperamental as the Abbess from the monastery he grew up in.  
</p><p>
“Only a few hours more, then we can rest.” Yusuf reiterated as he ducked his head low to look into Nicolò’s eyes before he clapped the man on the chest.
</p><p>
Nicolò closed his eyes with a nod, heaved a heavy sigh…
</p><p>
..and blinked his eyes open to stare up into the bewildered gaze of Yusuf who was hovering worriedly above him, the sky behind the man a concerning mix of grey and green. Nicolò blinked owlishly at the sudden change in position and reached a hand up towards Yusuf’s cheek, thumb brushing over the man’s cheek bone. He’d never realized how amazing Yusuf looked before, the way the shadowed rays of the sun glistened off the sweat trickling down the man’s beautiful skin. The tiny patch of freckles that were peppered over the bridge of his nose that Nicolò wanted to do nothing more than map like the stars in the sky. “You are amazing.”
</p><p>
“You have sun-sickness, you silly man.” Yusuf explained softly, his hands gently moving Nicolò’s own to rest against the fabric of the man’s shirt. “Hijen had to carry you the rest of the way to the springs.”
</p><p>
“Poor camel.” Nicolò murmured, his eyes drifting shut.
</p><p>
“Ah, you must drink to help cool your body down, then you can rest.” 
</p><p>
“So bossy.” But he opened his eyes to Yusuf holding a waterskin to his lips, he sipped hesitantly at the liquid before gulping down the cooled water, whining when his friend pulled the waterskin back.
</p><p>
“Slowly,” Yusuf reprimanded, “or you’ll throw up.” 
</p><p>
Nicolò nodded and took a few more sips before leaning back against the bed roll laid out beneath him, he watched as Yusuf adjusted the pack under his feet before turning back to brush the bangs from his head.
</p><p>
“Rest, we will stay here for the night.”
</p><p>
Nicolò <em>hmm’d</em> and let himself drift to the soft sounds of Yusuf unpacking needed items for their camp.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always thank you for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Into the Unknown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 15:<br/><b>Possession</b> | Magical healing | Science gone wrong</p><p>Booker screamed, the tendons on his neck standing out as he strained against the chains around him as the meaning of the words sunk deep into his bones, igniting a fire inside him that sent shockwaves of burning agony through his being. “Andy! Please, please Andy, make him stop, it hurts.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here is the Halloweesque fic that I kind of want to write into its own thing at some point.</p><p>This is a total AU the Old Guard are hunters, except Nicolò my brain didn’t really explain what he is other than a priest and something more. *shrugs* </p><p>There are quite a bit of expletives in this chapter because Booker has a potty mouth when possessed, lol.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Nile’s right, so I called for help.” Andy said, chucking the spiral bound book into the middle of the table. “We know dick-all about demons other than their nasty motherfuckers who ride their hosts hard and leave ‘em dead.”</p><p>
Joe shook his head, a cold seeping through him and sending a shiver down his spine knowing who Andy had gotten a hold of. There was only one person in their extended repertoire of contacts that had an abundant knowledge of the inky-black hell-spawns. “You didn’t.”
</p><p>
Andy grinned and flicked her eyes towards the glass front of the building and as if the Catholic God himself found Joe’s perceived pain nothing but a comedy, the tiny bell above the door to Booker’s bookshop trilled announcing the presence of the only other person in the world, other than Andy, able to get under his skin... 
</p><p>
“<em>Father Nicolò.</em>”
</p><p>
The tall gangly-limbed man smiled a little too cheerily at Joe’s strained greeting as he removed his woolen waistcoat and draped it over his forearm, eyes sparkling, “Hello, again, <em>Yusuf</em>.”
</p><p>
Said man rolled his eyes heavenward as Andy stood and walked by him towards the new comer.
</p><p>
“It’s good to see you again, old friend.” Andy welcomed warmly with a hug. 
</p><p>
Nicolò returned the gesture with a gentle squeeze of his own, “As it is you, sadly I wish it were under better circumstances.” 
</p><p>
“Hello, Father.” Nile piped up from behind the cash register, her hand waving excitedly, taking a small bit of pleasure in the grimace she could see on Joe’s face. 
</p><p>
“Ah, Nile,” Nicolò smiled warmly and nodded in greeting, “always a pleasure to see your smiling face.” 
</p><p>
Nile rested her cheek against her hand with a grin, “Always such a flatterer, Nico.” 
</p><p>
“Just common courtesy, my dear.” Nicolò replied, side eyeing a certain individual, “Some of us still have such decency.” 
</p><p>
Joe pursed his lips, a retort dancing sweetly on the tip of his tongue till Andy cuffed him lightly on the side of his head. “Behave.”
</p><p>
“Don’t I always?”
</p><p>
“Never…” Andy replied with a knowing sigh, “but stow the romantic banter until after we’ve gotten Booker back to his old crotchety self, ya?”
</p><p>
He’d be ashamed to admit he’d almost forgotten the reason Andy had called for Father Nicolò in the first place. Silently reprimanding himself for letting Booker - who was holed up in sanctified chains in their store room, fighting for his sense of self and being - slip his mind. “Of course, Boss.”
</p><p>
Nicolò cleared his throat, “Please, Andy, lead the way.”
</p><p>
Andy nodded her head towards the staircase that wound down towards the lower level of the bookstore. “Follow me.”
</p><p>
~Oo~o~oO~
</p><p>
“How long has he been like this?” Nicolò questioned, his footsteps light as he walked around the chained and confined monster masquerading as the small hunting group's book-keeper, Sébastien Le Livre. 
</p><p>
“A couple of days at least, maybe less? Nile, Joe, and I left to hunt a Shtriga in Maryland over the weekend and Book was fine then.” Andy explained, “He even handled all the usual suspects when we got back Tuesday, holy water, consecrated buck shot, no reaction.”
</p><p>
Nicolò made a noncommittal noise and came to a stop behind Booker. He brought his hand up to hover over the older man’s head, fingers twitching. “So let’s see just who you are then, shall we?” He murmured as he let his eyes slip closed. 
</p><p>
A soft gasp from Nicolò accompanied Booker opening his eyes, the man’s pupils blown wide and irises black as coal, staring in annoyance at Andy. When the beast within Booker spoke, his voice was a deep guttural croak that reverberated around them, “Ah-ah, ahhh. You’ll ruin the surprise, <em>Traitor.</em>”
</p><p>
Nicolò cried out as he was forced back into the exposed brick wall of the store room, brilliant stars bursting across his field of vision from the pain of his head bouncing off the blocks. Gritting his teeth, Nicolò shoved himself from the wall and looked towards Andy, “Leave us, please.”
</p><p>
The door to the room slammed shut and locked, trapping the three of them within the confines of the storeroom. “And have her miss all the fun? I don’t think so, I crawled my way through blood and sinew to get here and I’m not leaving because you know how to say a bunch of bullshit words in the right order. So, shut your mouth, <em>Quisling.</em>”
</p><p>
“Quisling?” Nicolò asked moving around the bound demon to stand shoulder to shoulder with Andy, a curious look settling over his features. “Oh, you poor thing, how did you slip through?”
</p><p>
“I didn’t slip through, I’m not some <em>Floozer!</em>” The demon growled out, irritated. His hands pulling against the runed chains winding around him. “I will feast upon your corpses and be heralded a king when I return with your still beating hearts clutched within my grasp!”
</p><p>
“My you’re a mouthy one for someone so young.” Nicolò reached into the pocket of his cassock and pulled out a small bottle of holy water. He proceeded to splash it onto Booker and the reaction was immediate, the skin of the older man’s face sizzled from the liquid. “<em>Exorcizamus te, immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii.</em>”
</p><p>
Booker screamed, the tendons on his neck standing out as he strained against the chains around him as the meaning of the words sunk deep into his bones, igniting a fire inside him that sent shockwaves of burning agony through his being. “Andy! Please, please Andy, make him stop, it hurts.”
</p><p>
Andy clenched her teeth together so hard her jaw ached. She crossed her arms and spread her stance wider trying to show outwardly that she was a pillar of strength while inside she was trying very hard to ignore how the cries were effecting her. She hated when any of her family were in pain but Booker held a special place in her heart, she had met the man on the brink of death fighting to survive as his whole family fell around him. She felt responsible for his continued survival and listening to his pain filled pleas was pulling at her, relentless in their accusations of her own self-perceived failure. She forced herself to hold Booker's gaze as Nicolò splashed holy water once more on Booker and subsequently pissing off the thing inside him.
</p><p>
“<em>Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum.”</em> 
</p><p>
“You Bitch!” The demon spewed thrashing against his bonds, “Booker knows you don’t care about him, he knows he’s the reason you had to stop your search for Qunyh.”
</p><p>
As much as she tried not to react to the words she couldn’t help the flinch at her former lover’s name.
</p><p>
“Oh, <em>see</em>, there we go.” The man grinned and leaned forward with a wink, “There’s that reaction I was looking for.”
</p><p>
Booker hissed as another splash of holy water burned against his back. “Stop this <em>traitre</em> from sending me back and I can help you.” 
</p><p>
With a trembling lip and wet eyes, the demon pleaded in Booker’s softest voice, “Please, Andy. Make him stop, it’s too much, <em>please</em>.”
</p><p>
“<em>Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate sevire.</em>”
</p><p>
Booker’s head slammed hard against the back of the chair, eyes squeezed shut from the agony tearing through him. “You let him send me back and I will make sure Qunyh suffers. I will make sure that she is torn to shreds, that everything that is left of her is ripped into the very atoms that make up you stupid fucking meat bags!”
</p><p>
“<em>Audi nos.</em>” Nicolò finished making the sign of a cross and bowing his head.
</p><p>
Booker’s throat rippled as his head was thrust backwards, his mouth expanding in a violent fashion while a scream ripped from deep within him, a greasy black cloud burst forth from the man until it covered the tiles above and blocked the ceiling from view.
</p><p>
Nicolò sighed and raised his head watching Booker as the man slumped forward before he turned his attention to the undulating shadow above with a tsk, “Sticking around? You <em>are</em> young.” 
</p><p>
The mass seemed to sense something was about to happen because it quickly dissipated through the vent to the room.
</p><p>
The door to the room clicked open just as Booker groaned from his seat. 
</p><p>
“A-andy?” 
</p><p>
“Here, Book.” Andy answered coming to kneel in front of the haggard and shaken man. “I’m right here.”
</p><p>
“I-I’m sorry, I…”
</p><p>
Andy shook her head and patted Booker on the knee watching as Nicolò worked to release the chains from him. “None of that now, you know how the gig goes.”
</p><p>
“Y...yeah, unfortunately.” Booker flexed his arms and rubbed his hands together trying to stave off the chill he could feel settling in his bones. 
</p><p>
“Mr. Booker?” Nicolò questioned, tossing the unneeded chains to the wooden floor. “You are unhurt?”
</p><p>
“Jesus, Kid.” Booker huffed with a thin smile, “You exercised a demon from me, pretty sure we can drop the formalities.”
</p><p>
Nicolò nodded, “I think your friends are waiting for you upstairs, Andy if you could help him. I want to bless the room and fortify your protection sigils.”
</p><p>
“Thank you, Nicky.” At Nicolò’s nod she helped Booker up from his chair and navigated them both through the door and towards the stairs.
</p><p>
Nicolò looked around the room with a knowing eye, “I can still feel you here, whatever your interest is with the Old Guard, you tell your boss they are off limits.”
</p><p>
A laugh echoed from seemingly everywhere before fading to the quiet of the bookshops store room.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Woohoo halfway mark! *Happy Dance*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 16<br/><b>Forced to beg</b> | Hallucinations | <b>Shoot the Hostage</b></p><p>The flabbergasted gunman jerked his gun roughly poking Booker in the head in an attempt to emphasize his point. “He’ll die!”</p><p>“Eh, he’ll live.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yeah, I don't even know what this is other than crack and once again poor Booker is the target. xD</p><p>Wrote this in like a half hour while watching the election tonight, so enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh, no… please… don’t shoot him.”</p><p>
Nile canted towards Joe, who was tied up beside her on his knees just as she and the rest of the bank goers were, and quietly growled, “Think maybe you could inflict some emotion into that, Joseph?”
</p><p>
Joe cleared his throat and brought his hands up as if to reach towards Booker, the man kneeling a few short feet in front of them with a masked gunman standing behind him. The gunman’s handgun flush against Booker’s temple.“Oh, no. <em>Please~</em>, don’t shoot him?” He turned towards Nile and grinned, “Better?”
</p><p>
“I thought it was very convincing.” Nicky commented with a wave of his bound hands from the other side of Joe.
</p><p>
“Thank you, Habibi.” Joe preened and knocked his shoulder lightly into Nicky’s. 
</p><p>
“Are you serious right now?” Nile questioned leaning forward to peer around Joe towards Nicky, eyes dark from annoyance. “Seriously, he’s going to shoot him.”
</p><p>
“Yeah! That’s right!” The no-name gunman agreed, voice an octave higher than a normal man’s should be giving away his youth, “I’m gonna shoot him up real good unless you beg for his life! Beg for his continued existence and maybe I’ll keep him alive that much longer.”
</p><p>
Joe shrugged, “I’m all begged out.” 
</p><p>
The gunman turned to Nile, confused. “Is he for real?” 
</p><p>
Nile looked up at the gunman, world weary from the realization she worked and lived with honest to God man-children, and sighed, “Knowing how pissed he still is at Book, probably.”
</p><p>
“This isn’t a joke!” No-name gunman shouted, voice cracking as he shoved the gun so hard into Booker’s temple that the man had to adjust his stance or risk being shoved over onto the cold tiled floor, “Either beg for your friend's life or I’m going to release the entire clip into him!” 
</p><p>
“Oh, I believe you.” Joe agreed, motioning with his bound hands to get on with it.
</p><p>
The flabbergasted gunman jerked his gun roughly poking Booker in the head in an attempt to emphasize his point. “He’ll die!” 
</p><p>
“Eh, he’ll live.” 
</p><p>
The gunman sputtered at the answer, his free hand running over the pilled fabric of his black mask, unsure of what to make of the crazy person kneeling before him.”What the hell man?”
</p><p>
“<em>Jesus</em>, Joe.” Nile murmured over the whispered concerns of the other bank patrons who seemed perturbed by the idea that no one was going to beg for poor Booker’s life.
</p><p>
“<em>Hayati…</em>” Nicky murmured pushing at Joe’s shoulder with his own and nodding towards the gunman. “You’re embarrassing the poor young man.”
</p><p>
“<em>Fine</em>. The things I do for this family, <em>uqsim.</em>” Joe bowed his head and shook his shoulders to loosen up his muscles, he rocked his head back and forth to stretch and pop his neck. “Alright, here we go. Please, please don’t shoot Booker, he has so much to live for...like...like his collection of novelty spoons, his custom made Captain Kirk cosplay he bought off Etsy, and his-his-”
</p><p>
“Doll collection.” Nicky supplied helpfully with a giant grin.
</p><p>
“Yes!” Joe agreed with a snap of the fingers, “His doll collection he’s worked so hard to acquire over the centuries.”
</p><p>
“For the love of God just shoot me already.” Booker bemoaned with a shake of his head. 
</p><p>
“But Booker your 12 cats will miss you!” Joe cried out in mock sorrow. 
</p><p>
Nicky couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.
</p><p>
“Just shoot the man, Reid, we gotta go!”
</p><p>
“Coming!” No-name gunman now known as Reid called back looking down at Booker, “Sorry, man.”
</p><p>
Booker sighed, resigned to his fate and squeezed his eyes closed and waited for the shot to ring out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Arabic Used:<br/>Uqsim - I swear</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. I Did Not See That Coming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 17:<br/><b>Blackmail</b> | Dirty Secret | Wrongfully accused</p><p>Except two hours into Operation Distract Nicky, Nile was beginning to think her plan had been anything but brilliant as she had recently lost sight of him in the throng of overly drunk and low inhibited party goers.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The total moral of this story is don't destroy Andy's coffee mug or else Nile will blackmail you. 😆</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“But, why?” He knew how childish he sounded but, truth be told, he didn’t care. He was comfy in his fuzzy socks and too baggy pants and the warm cocoon he’d created with his oversized hoody left him feeling happily content to just stay hunkered down on the couch watching cheesy black and white horror movies for the rest of the evening.</p><p>
“Because you need a distraction while Joe and Andy are out schmoozing with the rich and smarmy elite of this god-forsaken town.” Nile explained her hands digging through the half broken laundry basket in search of a pair of pants that didn’t look like someone had died of blood loss, “<em>and</em> I’m tired of seeing you moping around because Joe is too busy to pay attention to you right now.”
</p><p>
“Joe is never too busy to pay attention to me.” Nicky murmured with a pout, smacking at the pair of black skinny jeans Nile threw at him a little too aggressively.  
</p><p>
“Nicky, it’s a club. You’re thirty give or take a couple of centuries not an old geezer who likes to have dinner at four in the afternoon and to be in bed by six.” She chucked a deep teal colored henley at him for good measure, “Put that on and let’s go dance.”
</p><p>
Nicky eyed the clothes with casual interest before setting them to the side, “Nile, you are young yet and I appreciate that you want to go out and-.”
</p><p>
“Andy’s coffee mug…”
</p><p>
Nicky stopped his speech with a blink, “What?”
</p><p>
Nile narrowed her eyes challengingly, “You heard me. You go out and dance with me or I tell Andy what really happened to her coffee mug.”
</p><p>
Aghast, Nicky sat up straight and glared at the younger woman, “You wouldn’t”
</p><p>
Inclining her head, Nile put her hands on her hips and met Nicky’s accusing gaze. “Try me.”
</p><p>
“So officious…going to start calling you Mini Boss.” Nicky said as he pushed himself off the couch and headed down the hall to change. 
</p><p>
“Damn right!” Nile shouted after him with a grin. 
</p><p>
Except two hours into <em>Operation Distract Nicky</em>, Nile was beginning to think her plan had been anything but brilliant as she had recently lost sight of him in the throng of overly drunk and low inhibited party goers. 
</p><p>
The first hour had been great, she had forced Nicky to the dance floor and had enjoyed a few heart pounding songs where they had jumped and swayed together to the music but then as the second hour started she had tired and the two of them had ended up claiming a small table in the corner of the club to drink and relax at. That was when the free drinks had started, courtesy of an overly friendly bartender named Jason. Nile had grinned like an idiot and teased Nicky about it before excusing herself to run to the restroom; and now, as she returned to their table and was greeted with their half full glasses and a missing Nicky, a sense of dread had settled and soured in her stomach. 
</p><p>
She gaped at the table and turned to stare at the crowded dance floor, hoping that maybe Nicky had just taken pity on the poor flirtatious bartender and went to dance with the man but she couldn’t see either of them in the mass of gyrating people. 
</p><p>
“Joe’s going to kill me.” Nile groaned, scrubbing a hand over her face before she made her way to the bar and flagged down the fiery redhead tending to the club’s other patrons and asking her if she’d seen Nicky leave.
</p><p>
The employee looked from Nile to the table she and Nicky had been sharing and shook her head.
</p><p>
“How about the bartender - Jason, I think? The one that’d been giving my friend free drinks, do you know where he went?”
</p><p>
The employee, who’s name tag read <em>Amber</em>, blinked, “We don’t have a Jason on staff, Kid.”
</p><p>
“Thanks, anyways.” Amber nodded and headed back down towards the end of the bar leaving Nile to bite at her lip in worry. 
</p><p>
Joe really was going to kill her, <em>she’d lost Nicky</em>. “Fuuu-<em>uck.</em>”  
</p><p>
Nile turned to stare at the bouncing horde of sweaty twenty and thirty somethings on the dance floor and asked herself, <em>If I was Nicky where would I be?</em>
</p><p>
Probably sneaking off to call Joe. Heaving a sigh, Nile pushed herself away from the bar and skirted across the edges of the dance floor towards the side exit already thinking of a few choice words she was going to have with Nicky when she found him. She pushed the side door open only to be shoved back into the building as something slammed into the door, closing it with a bruising force inches from her face.
</p><p>
“Well, that’s not good.” Nile shoved against the door again, this time with more strength and was greeted to the sight of Nicky dodging someone in black. She watched as he pushed against the person's back and shoved the unknown man into the brick of the opposing building.
</p><p>
“Nicky!”
</p><p>
At her call, Nicky looked up and she could see how blown his pupils were in the harsh light of the alley. “Hi! Nile!” 
</p><p>
“Are you high?” She asked, taking note of his overly cheerful tone and the bright cherry flush to his neck and cheeks. 
</p><p>
“Nope!” He exclaimed as he happily side stepped his attacker and kicked the man in the low back sending the guy stumbling towards her. “Just very, <em>very</em> drunk. This nice man introduced me to <em>Aunt Roberta</em> and she’s quite the hellcat and a very avid alcoholic.” 
</p><p>
Nile grabbed Nicky’s attacker by the shoulders and noticed that it was The-Not-an-Actual-Bartender-Jason, “Aunt Roberta?”
</p><p>
“It’s-it’s a blackout drink.” Jason stuttered, eyes wide as he stared at Niles hardened features.”I wasn’t going to hurt him I swear!”
</p><p>
“Not going to-<em>Jesus.</em>” Nile hissed and tightened her grip on the man’s shoulders at the possibilities of what might have happened if she hadn’t showed up and glanced at Nicky over the man’s shoulder, “You okay Nicky?”
</p><p>
“I am very good, Mini Boss, liquor and fisticuffs!” Nicky whooped, throwing a fist into the air happily before he overbalanced into the side of the trash bin, a hiccup working its way past his lips followed by a laugh at his own clumsy actions. 
</p><p>
“Please, I was just supposed to keep him busy until your boss agreed to my boss’s terms.” Jason pleaded, hands out in supplication. “That’s all, I promise.”
</p><p>
“<em>That’s all.</em>” Nile mocked before hauling back and smashing her fist into Jason’s temple and watching in mild satisfaction as the man crumpled to the ground. 
</p><p>
“You are truly a itty bitty mini Andy, it’s scary.” Nicky murmured from where he was sitting on the ground blinking wide eyes at the downed Jason. 
</p><p>
Nile rubbed her forehead, trying to stave off the headache she could feel forming. “Let’s get you home, Nicky.” 
</p><p>
“‘kay. Can you carry me? My legs are made of rubber and they don’t want to work correctly…”
</p><p>
“I didn’t even think we could get drunk. Andy downs her alcohol like it’s water.” Nile commented as she hefted Nicky up and settled his arm around her shoulder and helped him forward.
</p><p>
Nicky chuckled before his red face took on a green tinge, “baf-room.” He murmured before leaning away from Nile and heaved up what seemed like everything he’d ate and drank ever.</p><p>
“Joe’s gonna kill me…”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Aunt Roberta is considered the strongest cocktail in the world, this drink contains 100% alcohol, with absolutely no mixers whatsoever. It contains Gin, Vodka, Absinthe, Brandy and Blackberry liquor mixed together in equal parts. </p><p>Aunt Roberta Alcohol Content:<br/>GIN: 40 PER CENT ALCOHOL<br/>VODKA: 40 PER CENT ALCOHOL<br/>BRANDY: 40 PER CENT ALCOHOL<br/>BLACKBERRY LIQUEUR: 40 PER CENT ALCOHOL<br/>ABSINTHE: 45 PER CENT ALCOHOL</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Panic! At the Disco</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 18:<br/><b>Panic Attacks</b> | Phobias | Paranoia</p><p>She had done this dance with relentless death for what had felt like an everlasting eternity. Her breath, which had once been nothing but an afterthought in her perceived seemingly endless life, was now her garroter in this incessant purgatory that refused to let her surrender-allow her peace.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This takes place after Booker and Quynh have returned to their family and everyone is all copacetic with one another.</p><p>I don't know if this really fits as a panic attack - <em>but</em> it's what I was able to write, so please enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She had done this dance with relentless death for what had felt like an everlasting eternity. Her breath, which had once been nothing but an afterthought in her perceived seemingly endless life, was now her garroter in this incessant purgatory that refused to let her surrender-<em>allow her peace</em>. Perhaps her Christian captors had been right, she was a witch-hellspawn-<em>demon</em>, someone to be feared in the face of ambiguity, someone who needed to repent until the waters of her grave purified and made ready her soul for whatever afterlife she would be worthy of.</p><p>
Quynh could feel the nerve rattling pain of her body absorbing the water that had invaded her lungs, her quiet respite of gentle nothingness over before she had a chance to even relish in its tranquility. She tried to force her body to refuse the welcomed gift of life, refute the agonizing need to wake to the calming frigid waters that blanketed her in their numbing hold and ignore the sweet lullaby of passing whales. She clenched her mouth shut as the first itch of breath stung her chest. She could hold on longer this time, work harder to make her escape. Merciful creator of all things, she was a warrior born in the fire of rebellions, she would not go so easily this time, she would fight with the anger bred of the thousand countless lives she was refused.
</p><p>
<em>“Quynh!”</em>
</p><p>
She flinched at the pleasant call, angry that her shock had stolen precious moments from her as the bitter cold of her watery grave flowed unforgivingly into her. She coughed and spasmed against the unrepentant liquid. She thrashed against the metal confines of her prison, panic striking heavy against her chest.
</p><p>
<em>“Quynh, please, you must breathe!”</em> 
</p><p>
Her water-worn fists pounded against her rusted and coral bound coffin. Her mind slipping from her just as easily and jagged as her fists struck against the metal before her. She hated herself for her body stealing her second breath of life from her. She cried out to the gentle voice calling to her. Quynh’s tears were a fire burning hot and stinging against her sight, her voice all but lost as the air she had left bubbled from her, soundlessly begging anyone who would listen to let her be free, to let her finally be done with this constant torture. 
</p><p>
Her Andromache, her beautiful warrior queen's voice caressed her ears as sweetly as any lover’s kiss. She could feel the ghost of her love’s hands against her arms, feel the warm sweep of Andromache’s fingers against her temple. She squalled at the phantom touch, her body longing for the real thing. She choked and gagged at the water that rushed into her, shook as the salt stung her lungs and shot fire through her veins burning through the cold that had wrapped itself tight around her bones.
</p><p>
<em>“Quynh, my love, my light, please you must <b>breathe</b>!”</em>
</p><p>
Quynh struck true with one last stinging punch and gasped as between one blink and the next the watery-depths of her grave gave way to the overly bright lights of artificial sun. The feather-light touches of the person behind her becoming more tangible and sure, the deft fingers of her love working to knead her sternum, the ache of the action grounding her in the moment. 
</p><p>
“Quynh, breathe, follow my breath.” 
</p><p>
The chest pressed tight against her back expanded for a short few seconds before deflating. She tried to stop the shaking of her limbs as she moved her hands to lace her fingers with Andromache’s, intertwining her chilled hands with the warmth of her lover’s. When she felt Andromache’s next inhale she tried to mimic the action, her chest stuttering as it expanded. 
</p><p>
“You’re doing so good, again.”
</p><p>
Quynh took another deep inhale, her hands continuing to shake even as she tried to quiet her mind and calm her nervous body. Her gaze flitted from the overbearing lights of the room to the flickering of the television showing a play about a man and a woman fighting against time and illness to be with each other. She swallowed against a sob, blinking against the burn of tears pooling at the corner of her eyes. The glowing light from the flattened play box-something she could never dream of-reminding her she was no longer lost to the currents of the ocean. 
</p><p>
She was truly out-<em>free</em>. 
</p><p>
Quynh curled around her stomach pulling at her and Andy’s intertwined hands as she sobbed, her breath haggard as her feelings bubbled over. She hacked and wheezed, her tears soaking through the pillow beneath her as she gasped and let loose a broken scream that had her companion tightening their hold around her. Quynh let all the pent up anger at the Christian men that had stolen centuries from her and Andy, forcefully taken all the quiet familial moments of peace from her and her brothers, their metal casket eroding her mind and stealing her reason from her out in the violent vocal action. She screamed with all the anger and connotations that her forced confinement had built within her.
</p><p>
The door to their room slammed opened as her screams faded into quiet whimpers before fading into quiet gasps of air. She took a shuddering breath and tried to focus on the bodies at the door, her lips trembling at the familiar forms of her younger brothers, her new sister, and the man who had led her home-Booker. 
</p><p>
“It’s fine, we’re fine.” The rumble of Andy’s voice against her back settled warmly over her. “Just a nightmare.”
</p><p>
Quynh closed her eyes, <em>Just a nightmare.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I promise I am still working to get this series done but unfortunately (fortunately?) I work in healthcare and currently we are having an outbreak of Covid amongst our staff and residents so I have been working extra shifts to help, so my free time right now is mostly sleeping, lol.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Broken Hearts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumtober Day 19:<br/><b>Grief</b> | <b>Mourning loved one</b> | Survivor’s guilt</p><p>Booker had always been a religious man, well, as religious as any criminal could be, he supposed. But, he had always sought solace in the knowledge that when this life ended he would hopefully be welcomed home at the gates of Heaven. Because, surely, God would be merciful to him against his wrong doings-<em>crimes of which he’d only committed for his family’s well being</em>-and allow him the chance to repent his sins.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So...THAT happened. I apologize everyone for the break but I feel much better and rested now and ready to tackle the rest of these stories. Covid is still a beast raging but luckily the National Guard is helping us out so we aren't busting our butts to contend with overtime everyday. So, rested and somewhat refreshed, I bring you sad!boi!Booker.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Booker had always been a religious man, well, as religious as any criminal could be, he supposed. But, he had always sought solace in the knowledge that when this life ended he would hopefully be welcomed home at the gates of Heaven. Because, surely, God would be merciful to him against his wrong doings-<em>crimes of which he’d only committed for his family’s well being</em>-and allow him the chance to repent his sins.</p><p>
<em>But…</em>
</p><p>
But, God apparently thought him a fool. A soul unworthy for the halls of Heaven and thus sentenced to live in this purgatory of never-ending life on Earth, doomed to watch his family leave this world and unable to do anything but pray that their souls would find peace in the hereafter and forgive him for his inability to comfort them as they passed, unable to save them from death’s final grasp and forgive his inability to understand this gift-<em>this curse</em>-and share his longevity. 
</p><p>
He sniffed in the cold of the late fall rain, the drops falling as heavy as his heart against his woolen coat, and tried to focus on the intricately carved lettering on the white stone situated before him. 
</p><p>
“Amélie, <em>God,</em> I…” He didn’t even know where to begin, in all honesty, wasn’t sure how to even start to make amends to his beautiful wife who had deserved more than dealing with the fallout of his shitty mistakes. She had deserved a life so lavish she would have wanted for nothing, instead of the life of servitude to make ends meet she had been left to contend with while he traipsed around the world to help those who deserved far less than his Amélie.
</p><p>
His eyes burned against the chill of the November air and he blinked to try and quell the warmth before trying again, the apology sitting so heavy on his tongue that he had to swallow before he could speak, “I should have been there. I should have been there to help you.” Booker nodded his head trying to calm his wavering emotions. Blinking when his vision began to blur and doing his best to ignore the heat he could feel trailing down his cheeks. “But you did amazing, <em>Mon Amour</em>. Our boys…”
</p><p>
He had to laugh as he thought back to his oldest son, Henri, and the beautiful daughter his son had just welcomed into this unforgiving world. “Henri named his daughter after you. You’d love her, I haven’t seen her up close but I bet she has the Le Livre nose. I know you’d think me a coward, but Henri has mourned and moved on. I...I don’t want to tread upon his new life. He’s happy, his wife made a good man out of him.”
</p><p>
He nodded to himself again, assuring his inner conscience that he was making the right choice by staying away from his eldest but also keeping a distant eye. Even though he wanted nothing more than to walk up to the tiny house his son and daughter-in-law bought just a few short years ago and hoped to be welcomed with open arms and tearful smiles, he wasn’t so optimistic as to think a reunion with his eldest would be joyous. He still remembered Henri’s harsh words before he’d left to fight with Napoleon's army. The hurt was still fresh in his mind even though it was decades old. 
</p><p>
Booker rubbed at his cold nose and sighed, “René moved to London with Jean-Pierre, there’s a doctor there that they believe will be able to help with the cancer. Can you believe that? Medicine has come a long way in just a short time, I’m hoping to be able to go check in with him soon, make sure he’s doing well. I’m not brave enough to show my face but the doctors have always had loose lips whenever I’ve inquired about Jean-Pierre’s health.” 
</p><p>
He trailed off, the quiet of the rain taking over in the absence of his own ability to speak. Looking down at the white of his wife’s headstone had him grimacing, “I should have stayed. I should have stayed and finished my penance, the damned war ended less than a month after they caught me. If I had just not been a selfish idiot, if I had just… <em>had just…</em>” 
</p><p>
Booker choked back against the sob that bubbled up inside of him, he took a shaky breath and roughly ran his hands over his too cold face, head leaning back to stare up at the grey tinged sky, relishing in the chill of the rain washing away the heat of his emotions. 
</p><p>
<em>“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”</em>
</p><p>
Booker let his head fall to his chest and heaved a sigh, “Not now, Nicolò.”
</p><p>
“It’s okay to grieve, Sébastien, there is no shame in it.”
</p><p>
With eyes as tired and world weary as his soul felt, Booker turned back to look at the man who had only decades before cut him down from his gallows and saved him from repeated eternal death. “What would you know of grief?”
</p><p>
Nicolò looked thoughtful for a moment before he stepped forward to stand beside his newest friend and hopeful brother. “I know what grief can do to a person, how it can ravage and destroy if left to fester. Sorrow is a very powerful emotion, Sébastien. It is said,  <em>’It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of everyone; the living should take this to heart.’</em>”
</p><p>
Booker sighed, “Enough with the sermons, pretty sure God forsook me when he refused to let me die.” 
</p><p>
“<em>Sébastien…</em>”
</p><p>
“Let’s go, Amélie put up with enough of my bullshit in life, the least I can do is let her rest in peace.”
</p><p>
Booker gave one last longing look at the headstone before turning away and leaving Nicolò alone at his wife’s grave.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't think it was ever stated what Booker's wife and children's names were outside of Jean-Pierre so if there are actual names for them please let me know and I will change them ASAP. </p><p>Bible verses are from from Ecclesiastes 7:2 and Matthew 5:4</p><p>French used in this chapter<br/>Mon Amour - My Love.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. I don’t feel so well</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 20:<br/>Chronic Pain | <b>Hypothermia</b> | Infection</p><p>“The vault?”</p><p>“Keane is inbound with the other two, I do not like having the future of my company all resting in one place.” </p><p>“I’m afraid that I only have preliminary data from one of them. I still need samples and baseline readings from the other.”</p><p>“Then prepare the one you’re finished with for transfer, I want him ready to be moved as soon as Keane and his team arrive.”</p><p>“How long?”</p><p>“Half an hour, possibly less. Is that going to be a problem, Dr. Kozak?”</p><p>“No, no problem. Just a very limited window. I’ll start the procedure here but I’ll need a team with me to finish in transit.”</p><p>“Whatever you need, just get it done.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comic book medical care is used in this, because yeah I'm pretty sure forced hypothermia through medication and ice isn't a thing. I had fun writing this (haven’t proof read it yet, just really wanted to get it posted) and I hope you all enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The twitching of his love’s hands was the first sign that something was wrong. He watched as Nicky’s hands tugged halfheartedly against the restraints binding him to the table, the man’s fingers trying and failing to seek out the familiar grasp of Joe’s own. “Nicky?”</p><p>
Nicky stiffened at the quiet call of his name, his muscles tight as a bow string, eyes following the quick movements of their ever favorite doctor as she busied herself with raiding the medical labs cabinets and drawers gathering a confusing amount of supplies. “Something’s happening, I don’t like it.” 
</p><p>
Joe swallowed against the stifling nervousness that stung sharp and heady at the notion that something was going on that they were not privy to. “What do you…”
</p><p>
Nick shook his head, “I do not know.” 
</p><p>
“Whatever it is we will be fine, Habibi.” Joe replied before clearing his throat, “After all it’s not as though they can kill us.”
</p><p>
Nicky laughed loosely, a harsh breath of air that reminded them both that there were far worse outcomes than death. The room they were bound in being a case in point. 
</p><p>
“I apologize, gentlemen,” Dr. Kozak started as she made her way towards them, arms laden with IV bags and other various medical supplies, “but there are going to be a lot of things happening very quickly, so please don’t be alarmed.”
</p><p>
“Why? What is going on?” Nicky tried to question, watching as Dr. Kozak set her items onto the overbed tray and quickly plucked a pre-packaged hypodermic needle from her cache.
</p><p>
Joe followed her movements, eyes critical when she brought the needle to eye level and flicked it a few times to bring any air bubbles to the top before pressing the plunger to release them. “Nothing to be concerned about.” 
</p><p>
“Because that doesn’t sound vaguely nefarious.” Nicky commented wearily, trying and failing to jerk his hand back when he noticed their tormentor reaching for the IV port taped to the back of his hand. 
</p><p>
“Hey!” Joe shouted as Dr. Kozak slipped the needle into the injection port and dispensed the liquid from the barrel. Joe hissed and jerked at his bounds, “What did you give him? What did you do?” He questioned acidicly,  watching in concern when Nicky’s eyes began to droop and his breathing began to slow. “Nicolò, <em>look at me.</em>”
</p><p>
Kozak flipped the safety cap onto the needle and set it down reaching for another package that contained a bag with tubing. “It’s a mix of Ativan and Methadone, it won’t hurt him. It’s to help with anxiety and pain, calm down.”
</p><p>
“Pain? What are you doing?” Joe pulled at his restraints once more wincing at the bite of the straps as they rubbed against his wrists and arms. Joe took note of the furrow of his love’s brow and the way Nicky’s mouth opened and closed seemingly unable to form words as the medicine worked its way through Nicky’s veins.  “Nicolò, <em>stay with me, please.</em>”
</p><p>
Dr. Kozak latched the bag onto the IV pole situated at the head of the bed and checked the small roller clamp affixed to the tubing making sure it was closed before unfurling the curled-up tubing. “The more you holler and speak words of rubbish, the harder it is for me to concentrate.”
</p><p>
At the vile woman's words, Joe narrowed his eyes, “Then my plan is working.”
</p><p>
Dr. Kozak smiled as she screwed the tubing into Nicky’s IV before reaching up and giving the roller clamp a few spins. “It would be very easy to make a mistake with all the distractions coming from your mouth and we wouldn’t want that, would we? The poor man is going to have a rough go of it as it stands, I would hate to cause him any undue stress.”
</p><p>
“His name is Nicolò, <em>ya sharmouta.</em>”
</p><p>
Joe hated the way the woman ignored him and went about her business as if he were nothing. “Nicky? <em>Nicolò.</em>” 
</p><p>
Nicky struggled against the warmth that had spread through him, a gentle blanket of lassitude that made it hard for him to fight against the forced lethargy of the medication; but, at Joe’s desperate plea, he slowly rolled his head towards his love, his eyes blinking sluggishly against the darkness that threatened to pull him under and strained to focus on the blurred form of Joe just mere feet from him. “ Yus’f?”
</p><p>
Nicky could see the faint uptick of the corner of Joe’s lips at his whisper and smiled slightly when Joe quietly said, “<em>I’m here, my love, right here.</em>”
</p><p>
“<em>It is very dark.</em>” Nicky murmured, slipping easily into his native tongue and exaggerating the movement of lips to form the words, his eyes narrowed in concentration almost as if it took everything he had to speak.
</p><p>
“<em>All will be well, Nicolò. Our family is coming,</em>” Joe swore with all his worth, “<em>please, my heart, please stay with me.</em>” Joe begged and cursed when Dr. Kozak pivoted, her back blocking Nicky from view. 
</p><p>
“You will feel a slight burn, don’t be alarmed it’s just the medication. I need to get your temperature down as quickly and safely as I can without causing structural damage to your cells.” Dr. Kozak explained as she pinched the IV tubing to stop the drip and pushed a bolus of bright yellow liquid into Nicky’s IV port. 
</p><p>
“Your body produces red blood cells quicker than I would be able to exsanguinate, unfortunately, so I am unsure of how many doses it will take to start the process of cooling your system down since I am unable to lower your RBC.” Dr. Kozak explained as she grabbed another syringe of the yellow liquid and pushed it as well. 
</p><p>
“<em>P-please. No-no more.</em>” Nicky whispered, closing his eyes against the shiver that wracked his body. He could feel the faint itch of his healing trying to fight the effects of the medication but, with a third addition of the vile yellow liquid, he felt his heart stutter and his healing slow at the spreading touch of cold to his system. 
</p><p>
“Nicolò?” Joe tried to question when Dr. Kozak moved out of the way and headed towards one of the fridges of the room. “<em>Talk to me.</em>”
</p><p>
Nicky <em>hmm’d</em> and blinked owlishly, eyes rolling up to meet Joe’s concerned gaze in confusion and Joe wanted nothing more than to smooth the crease he could see wrinkling Nicky’s forehead. “<em>It’s very cold, my heart. Can you close the window? Andy hates the cold…</em>”
</p><p>
Joe bit his lip at the hushed words, eyes blurring from tears, he blinked and hated the tickle of them as they trailed down his cheeks. He tugged roughly at his bonds once more, straining against the fabric and hoping against hope he would snap the straps. “<em>Of course, my love. I will, but I need you to stay awake for me, keep talking to me.</em>”
</p><p>
Nicky sniffed, his eyes slipped closed for a moment before he forced them back open when Joe demanded his attention once more. Nicky looked at Joe, eyes dull, and whispered, “<em>I’m cold.</em>”
</p><p>
Joe made a noncommittal noise of frustration and bucked against his restraints, hating himself for his inability to tear through such simple straps and help Nicky. “<em>I know, beloved.</em>”
</p><p>
Dr. Kozak made her way back over to them and settled the white cold packs she had been carrying onto the edge of Nicky’s bed. “Are you feeling any pain?”
</p><p>
“Leave him be!” Joe shouted in anger from his bed, hating the glazed unsure look he could see Nicky giving Dr. Kozak as she began to settle the cold packs against Nicky’s neck, sending a shiver through the poor man’s body. 
</p><p>
“Stop shouting or I will force you to be silent.” The woman threatened, over her shoulder, her hands working quickly to set another duo of ice packs under Nicky’s arms and then around his groin, shushing Nicky when he whimpered at the chill. “I have to get your body temperature down as quickly as possible, if I don’t the next part of the procedure will be exceedingly painful and while you may think me immorale, I take my hippocratic oath-”
</p><p>
Joe snorted with a roll of his eyes. 
</p><p>
The woman turned at the noise and glared at Joe, her hand reaching threateningly for one of the hypodermic needles on the overbed tray.
</p><p>
Joe inclined his head at the silent threat meeting Dr. Kozak’s gaze steadfastly almost daring her to go through with it.  Dr. Kozak shook her head and turned her back towards Joe, returning her attention to Nicky who had started to shiver uncontrollably.
</p><p>
“Habibi?” Joe questioned quietly, noting the ashen pallor that seemed to have taken over Nicky’s pale complexion. “<em>Talk to me?</em>”
</p><p>
“<em>I don’t want to go.</em>” Nicky sniffled, tears pooling at the corner of his eyes before falling when he blinked. 
</p><p>
“<em>You won’t be going anywhere, my life. I will not allow it.</em>” Joe promised as the door to the lab opened and a man and a woman entered carrying what appeared to be a translucent blanket. 
</p><p>
“Keane just pulled into the garage.” The man explained while handing the odd blanket off to Dr. Kozak, who cursed. The doctor made quick work of settling the blanket over Nicky who whined at the added weight and tried to buck weakly against his restraints. 
</p><p>
“I know, Nicky, but the ice blanket will help.” Dr. Kozak explained swiping Nicky’s bangs from his forehead, her gentle touch belaying her unkind actions. She looked up towards the other woman of the room and jerked her head towards the door to the lab. “Grab the red box and you,” She said as she turned to the man, “help me with the bed.”
</p><p>
“What are you doing!?” Joe shouted in anger, his hands clenched tight, muscles straining against his bonds. “Hey!” 
</p><p>
Dr. Kozak ignored him and kicked against the wheel locks to the bed just as the other man did the same on the opposite side of the bed. 
</p><p>
“Hey!” Joe shouted, panic seizing his chest when the bed with Nicky on it started forward. “You bitch! When I get out of here there will be nothing that will stop me from hunting you down! Nicky! Nicolò! <em>I will come for you!</em>” Joe swore on his life and everything he held dear that he would burn the world down to get back to Nicky. He screamed as Dr. Kozak glanced at him one last time before wheeling Nicky out of the room and down the hall to somewhere he couldn’t follow. “<b>Nicolò!</b>”
</p><p>
~oO~Oo~
</p><p>
Joe shot up, his breath coming in short ragged gasps, his hands working to push off the heavy winter cover.
</p><p>
“Joe?”
</p><p>
At the quiet call, Joe turned to see Nicky staring sleepy-eyed up at him with a frown of worry etched onto his forehead. “Is everything alright, my love?"
</p><p>
“Nightmare.” Joe replied, falling back against his pillows his arms reaching to pull Nicky close while he hooked his leg over Nicky’s and burrowed into the space between Nicky’s neck and shoulder. 
</p><p>
“Want to talk about it?” Nicky questioned quietly, his arms grasping lightly at Joe's to try and comfort his the anxiety he could feel radiating from the form wrapped tightly around him like an octopus. 
</p><p>
“In the morning,” Joe replied with a kiss to Nicky’s shoulder, “right now I just want to hold you close and forget.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Words Used:<br/>Habibi - My heart<br/>Hayati - My Life<br/>Ya Sharmouta - You Bitch</p><p>I'm almost to 100 subscriptions as of this chapter and that's just-like <em>holy cow</em>! Thank you all so much!!!! And thank you all for leaving comments and kudos it totally makes my day! Y'all are so amazing!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 21:<br/><b>Lost</b> | Field Medicine | Medieval</p>
<p>“Nile wants to go to the National Archaeological Museum.” </p>
<p>“Have fun.” Andy said and scooped another heaping spoonful of her cereal onto her spoon and shoved it in her mouth. A quiet moment passed and when she didn’t hear Joe leave she looked up from her bowl of sugar frosted cereal to see him looking at her with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised expectedly. She shoved her cereal into the side of her cheek and garbled out a,  “...what?”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I had trouble writing the fic for this prompt, mostly because I couldn't think of anything good to write, so I sat down and this is what came of it. </p>
<p>It does sorta count, in that I use Lost as the prompt even though there isn't any whump, so very sorry! But, I make Andy cry, does that count?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Nile wants to go to the National Archaeological Museum.”</p>
<p>
“Have fun.” Andy said and scooped another heaping spoonful of her cereal onto her spoon and shoved it in her mouth. A quiet moment passed and when she didn’t hear Joe leave she looked up from her bowl of sugar frosted cereal to see him looking at her with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised expectedly. She shoved her cereal into the side of her cheek and garbled out a,  <em>“...what?”</em>
</p><p>
“Andy…” Joe started with a heavy breath, sliding seamlessly into the chair beside her.
</p><p>
Andy swallowed her mouthful of cereal and leaned back against the chair, “I don’t do museum’s Joe, you know that. Not since…” She waved her hand in lieu of words, leaving Joe to fill in the blanks.
</p><p>
Joe shook his head, “I know, but Nile wants to share her love of art history with you.” Andy made a face when Joe tapped his pointer finger against the table and told her, “You’re going.”
</p><p>
“Joe.” Andy half-whined but sighed when she saw the stern look from Joe and relented, “Fine.”
</p><p>
“It’s Greece, Andy. I highly doubt you’ll see something.” Joe said with a grin, trying for levity but knowing that Andy had been around long enough that there was no way to guarantee that her past wouldn’t be waiting for her around a random corner of the museum.
</p><p>
~Oo~o~oO~
</p><p>
“I have always wanted to come here,” Nile explained with wide eyes, her gaze flitting from one room to the next on the museum’s map, unsure of where to begin. “I actually had this whole bucket list mapped out for when I finished my tour of duty, Jay and Dizzy and I were going to start in Athens, this and the Acropolis Museum were the two we wanted to visit.”
</p><p>
“Well, then, you can be our guide.” Nicky said as he slung an arm around Nile’s shoulders and looked down at the map with a curious eye. “What room should we investigate first?”
</p><p>
Nile pursed her lips and looked up from the map and stared around the ground floor before she pointed off to a section of halls on their left. “Let’s start with the antiquities?” 
</p><p>
“Perfect choice.” Nicky agreed with a squeeze to Nile’s shoulder’s before he let his arm fall and gestured for her to lead the way. 
</p><p>
Andy watched Nicky and Nile head down the hall with trepidation. She hated museum’s, while her memory wasn’t as brilliant as she would’ve liked it to be; she remembered enough of her past that it annoyed her with how much archaeologists projected their own romantic narrative onto the past in lieu of hard facts. The last museum she had visited had had an exhibit on the Scythian Empire and its downfall to Mithridates VI of Pontus. Glorifying the enigmatic bastard and his cowards death. The whole thing had left a sour taste in her mouth and had left her owing the museum damages due to <em>accidentally</em> knocking the bust of the ass to the floor and shattering the marble-<em>and maybe petulantly stomping a few of the shards for good measure.</em>
</p><p>
“Andy?”
</p><p>
At Joe’s soft call, she turned with a heavy breath, “Let's just get this over with.” 
</p><p>
~Oo~o~oO~
</p><p>
Andy watched Nile, Nicky, and Joe talk hushedly about a marble statue of Aphrodite from her spot on a hard wooden bench just feet from them. She leaned back and let her head fall to the high back of the bench, her focus coming to rest on the darkened ceiling of the museum. It had been just a little over three hours and they had been to every exhibit the building had to offer, she had just closed her eyes when the faint whisper of her name had her blinking them open with a frown. The sweet caress of the feminine voice that Andy had thought lost to waters of time had her turning subconsciously to the right. 
</p><p>
A flash of red caught Andy’s eye and she frowned, unsure why her stomach was fluttering and her heart racing at the color. Andy turned when she heard her name called once more and froze when eyes the color of a deep mahogany-wood caught her attention and sent a rush of comfort-of home- coursing through her and stole the breath from her lungs; sending her mind reeling from the ghostly apparition staring at her from across the crowded hall. “Q...quynh?” 
</p><p>
Andy was too afraid to move, scared that any minute movement of her body would wake her from this dream world or scare the spectre away. The figure smiled and lifted a delicate pale hand and pointed to something behind her. Andy swallowed and turned to see a glass case behind her housing various trinkets shining bright under the artificial light of the museum. Andy stared at the small glittering objects for just a moment before she turned back to see the figure had vanished. 
</p><p>
With a pit settling heavy and sickeningly in her stomach, Andy turned back towards the glass case and made her way over, unsure why she was so nervous. The case appeared harmless, there was nothing around the glass covered table except a little info card that said the lot was on loan from an unknown benefactor. Andy looked over her shoulder with a frown before turning back to study the contents housed inside. 
</p><p>
Inside were a few examples of jewelry worn by both women and men of Ancient Greece but it was the thick band of gold inlaid with rubies and emeralds and the inscription, <em>‘two shall be one’</em>, inscribed in latin on the inner portion of the ring that grabbed her attention. 
</p><p>
Andy swallowed thickly and ran her hand over the top of the glass blinking against the well of emotion that blurred her vision. It was the ring she gifted Quynh on the eve after Lykon’s death, her promise-the same of Joes and Nickys-that they were one and the same, her life was Quynhs just as much as Quynhs life was hers; and, that no matter what when they would finally leave this world they would go together. A ring that should be resting at the bottom of the ocean lost to her forever just as Quynh was. 
</p><p>
It was her ring and she would be damned if it stayed one second longer in this sterilized environment on display for the world to see. She raised her fist ready to smash the glass when a hand on her shoulder stopped her. 
</p><p>
“Andy?” Nile inquired, voice hesitant.
</p><p>
“Boss?” Nicky questioned as he came to stand beside Andy, his hand reaching up to brush the tears trailing down her cheeks in confusion.
</p><p>
“I fucking hate museums.” She whispered tiredly, swiping at her cheeks.
</p><p>
Nicky nodded and looked from Andy to the glass case, “Andy, what’s going on?” 
</p><p>
“The ring, the gold one with the rubies and emeralds. It’s the one I gave Quynh when I pledged my life to her. I thought I had lost it when I lost Quynh.”
</p><p>
Joe scrunched his face and looked up to see the security camera a few feet from them slowly turning as it watched over the antiquities. “Copley owes us, yes?”
</p><p>
“<em>Yeeeaaah.</em>” Nile said, unsure, “Why?”
</p><p>
Joe looked at Nile with a grin, “If the ring is Andy’s then it does not belong to the museum.”
</p><p>
“Joe, no.” Nile tried to plead.
</p><p>
Andy grinned, “Joe, yes.”
</p><p>
“The museum closes in a few hours, I’m sure stealing a ring would be something Copley could easily hide.” Joe explained, clapping Nile on the shoulder and winking at her.
</p><p>
“Stealing a ring from a national museum is not something good guys do!” Nile tried to reason looking to Nicky for help in making Joe and Andy understand they couldn’t just rob a business, regardless of how good the reasoning was.
</p><p>
Nicky smiled, “Then this century I guess we are the bad guys.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Do These Tacos Taste Funny to You?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 22:<br/>Poisoned | Drugged | <b>Withdrawal</b></p><p>"I thought you were stronger than this, my love.”</p><p>At the hushed voice, Joe raised his head and opened his eyes, blinking a few times to try and relieve the dryness he felt. He keened when he saw Nicky kneeling before him, a frown marring his husband’s normally beatific face. Joe leaned forward as the words tumbled unbidden from him, no shame as he implored his love to aid him, “My moon, my stars, please-<em>please</em>, I beg of you, help me. I cannot do this, it hurts too much. Just a little, <em>please</em>, just to take the edge off, that is all I need.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh Lordy, I hope I did this prompt justice. Like in my head I knew what I wanted to write but my brain kept interrupting things by making me google stuff, I'm sure I'm on a list somewhere now, lol. So like Google level knowledge of drug withdrawal here and I really hope y’all enjoy!  :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He couldn’t remember how long it had been, how many hours-minutes-<em>seconds</em> had passed since he’d been manhandled into this forsaken chair, bound tight, and left to burn from the flames of need that were ravaging through his veins, spreading rampant throughout his body and gnawing at his nerves until nothing was left but the feel of pins and needles and the ache of exhaustion. He cursed vehemently and jerked weakly against the ropes tethering him to the chair, he was dying, he was burning from the inside out! Couldn’t they see that?</p><p>
“Nicolò!” He shouted desperately, hands working to loosen the ropes wrapped around his wrists. He didn’t understand why they were doing this to him. Why wouldn't they just give him what he needed? Worn out and hurting, Joe closed his eyes and let his chin rest against his chest with a sniffle.
</p><p>
<em>“I thought you were stronger than this, my love.”</em>
</p><p>
At the hushed voice, Joe raised his head and opened his eyes, blinking a few times to try and relieve the dryness he felt. He keened when he saw Nicky kneeling before him, a frown marring his husband’s normally beatific face. Joe leaned forward as the words tumbled unbidden from him, no shame as he implored his love to aid him, “My moon, my stars, please-<em>please</em>, I beg of you, help me. I cannot do this, it hurts too much. Just a little, <em>please</em>, just to take the edge off, that is all I need.” 
</p><p>
He watched as Nicky’s gaze hardened and the man stood, “Perhaps I was wrong, perhaps you are nothing but a weak infant waiting for the next chance to suckle at its mothers teat.”
</p><p>
Joe licked his chapped lips and leaned as far forward as his bonds would let him, pleading, “Nicolò, please, if you’ve ever loved me you would-.” 
</p><p>
“Loved you?” The man interrupted with a harsh bark of laughter, eyes darkening to a deep emerald as he leaned down to stare directly into Joe’s eyes with a sneer, “How could I love someone who couldn’t even save himself? Willingly let those men-”
</p><p>
“I didn’t!” Joe interrupted in an attempt to defend himself. He didn’t let those men do anything, he would never let those barbarians willingly infect him with poison. “I would never, please you have to believe me Nicolò, I would never, <em>I wouldn’t.</em>”
</p><p>
“And, yet, here we are.” Nicky whispered sadly, hands running through Joe’s sweat slick curls as he pulled Joe’s head to rest against his abdomen. 
</p><p>
Joe sobbed, another shiver racking his body, and tried to burrow into the perceived coolness of Nicky’s hoodie. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into Nicky’s lap and let his love make him forget the flames licking at his nerves but the ropes around him prevented such an action. 
</p><p>
“What happened to the man who chased me across sand and stone to end the demon who invaded his lands? Did the drug burn away that passion? Leave nothing but apathy in its place? Perhaps I should leave you to your own devices, let the cleansing fires of sickness be your cure.”
</p><p>
Joe clenched his eyes closed and shook his head, a hiccuping sob escaping him. He didn’t want to be left alone, he couldn’t do this himself, he was too weak a soul to walk through fire and make it to the other side unmarred. He stilled when Nicky shushed him and let those wonderful chilled fingers trail from his hair down to the taught tendons of his neck. 
</p><p>
“Perhaps I should break your neck? Put you out of your misery, one way or another. Wouldn’t that be lovely, my Yusuf?” Nicky questioned quietly his grip tightening around Joe’s neck, smiling softly when Joe’s breath quickened the muscles of Joe's throat spasmed beneath his hold as Joe gasped and gagged. “Just keep squeezing until your throat closes and watch as you try and try to suck in that last breath of air while the world dims and darkens around you, wouldn’t you like that? One more death by my hands? Wouldn’t that be so very poetic?”
</p><p>
Joe jerked, his breath stuck in his throat as his stomach protested against his sudden movements. He opened his mouth to try and talk but something hot and heavy surged up his esophagus and Joe barely had time to realize Nicky had disappeared before he was expelling the contents of his stomach all over the floor before the world around him decided to bless him with nothingness. 
</p><p>
~Oo~o~oO~
</p><p>
“<em>Nicolò!</em>”
</p><p>
He couldn’t take it anymore, he couldn’t just sit down here while Joe suffered by himself through the agony of withdrawal. Nicky ran his sweaty palms over the rough fabric of his jeans and stood quickly heading towards the stairs of their temporary accommodations, his jaw clenched tight as another shout reverberated down the stairs, his heart contracting painfully at the anguish he could hear in Joe’s voice.  
</p><p>
“Nicolò di Genova sit your ass down, <em>now</em>.” Andy commanded, her arms crossed as she blocked Nicky’s path to Joe.
</p><p>
Nicky tried to move around Andy but was again blocked when Andy stretched her arms across the stairs, one hand grasping the spindle on the banister and the other resting against the white plaster of the wall. With a sigh, he tried to reason with her, “Andy I can’t let him go through it alone. It is not healthy.”
</p><p>
“You can and you will and if you don’t sit down, I will tie you down.” At Nicky’s silence she narrowed her eyes, “Is that understood?”
</p><p>
“Andy, please.” Nicky tried, eyes pleading with the older woman to let him pass when another echoing sob drifted down the stairs followed by another call of his name. “Allow me to help him. He must be so frightened.”
</p><p>
Andy stood firm with a shake of her head, “I know you and Joe. He’ll look at you with those sweet pain filled puppy dog eyes and you’ll do anything he says and I am not chasing Joe around this crapass city today. Let the drug run its course, he’ll be fine by nightfall.”
</p><p>
“Speaking of, why doesn’t our body heal against drugs anyways?” Nile questioned upon entering the room.
</p><p>
“Drugs, especially hard narcotics, disrupt brain function and make it harder for our body to sort itself out.  It’s like any other wound it takes time for the body to expel it and heal. Most of the time we sweat it out, other times it makes a reappearance through one or two other means.” Andy explained and sidestepped once more to block Nicky from making his way up the stairs. 
</p><p>
Nile made a face at the mental image that dredged up at Andy’s explanation. “Awesome.”
</p><p>
“Andy, I beg of you, please.” Nicky tried once again when a loud thud resounded from above them followed by an eerie silence that had a knot of worrying twisting itself in Nicky’s gut. 
</p><p>
Andy stood strong and glanced at Nile with a jerk of her head, “Go get me the rope from the garage.” 
</p><p>
Nicky crossed his arms and glared at Andy for a moment but when all she did was raise an eyebrow at him, he let his arms fall with a sigh. “If you will not permit me to go, will you at least check on him, please? For my peace of mind?”
</p><p>
“You’re on babysitting duty, if he tries to come up the stairs, “ Andy started, looking from Nicky’s pout to Nile’s wide eyes, “Sit on him.”
</p><p>
“Yeah, sure. Cause my 165 pound ass will be able to subdue Nicky.” Nile murmured as Andy turned and made her way up the stairs.
</p><p>
~Oo~o~oO~
</p><p>
“Joe?” Andy asked with a quiet knock to the bedroom door. When no sound answered her she opened the door and sighed when she was greeted with the sight of Joe slumped over the high back chair, ropes around his chest the only thing keeping upright, a puddle of lord only knew what soaking the floor in front of him. “Oh, Joe.”
</p><p>
She tread carefully around the mess on the floor and knelt beside Joe, “Hey Joe, you in there?”
</p><p>
At the soft spoken words, Joe frowned and blinked his red eyes open. “Andy?”
</p><p>
“There you are.” Andy grinned brushing Joe's sweat soaked curls off his forehead and tucking the strands behind his ear. “How're you feeling?”
</p><p>
“Like shit, but that’s...that’s an improvement.” Joe murmured with a sigh as his eyes slipped closed. “ ‘m tired.”
</p><p>
“Yeah, withdrawal’ll do that you, let’s get to an actual bed now, yeah?”
</p><p>
Joe nodded with a breath of relief as Andy started to undo his bindings.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. What's A Whumpee Gotta Do to Get Some Sleep Around Here?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 23:<br/><b>Exhaustion</b> | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation</p><p>He couldn’t, in all honesty, remember the last time he’d felt so world weary. The years behind him seemed so insignificant in the expanse of time that stretched out before him in ever changing tempos; his past a cadence of drum beats and pulsing rhythms that flowed so quickly everything blurred together until it slowed into the reverb of the world around him, the acoustic melancholy turning the upbeat song of his past into something dark and heartfelt; a calm thrumming sensation that seemed to saturate the surrounding environment, an ever present hum that vibrated through him and left a pleasant heaviness in its wake.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So I wrote the opening paragraph like two days ago and then got stumped on how to proceed and then finally-<em>finally</em> I kind of sort of figured out how to write myself out of the corner I wrote myself into. So have 1k+ of pensive!Nicky!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He couldn’t, in all honesty, remember the last time he’d felt so world weary. The years behind him seemed so insignificant in the expanse of time that stretched out before him in ever changing tempos; his past a cadence of drum beats and pulsing rhythms that flowed so quickly everything blurred together until it slowed into the reverb of the world around him, the acoustic melancholy turning the upbeat song of his past into something dark and heartfelt; a calm thrumming sensation that seemed to saturate the surrounding environment, an ever present hum that vibrated through him and left a pleasant heaviness in its wake.</p><p>
Nicky shifted, the cool air of the evening sending him hunkering back further against the shingles of the roof and tucking his chilled fingers into the pocket of his hoodie. The heaviness and warmth of the well worn fabric a gravity weighing him down, both mentally and physically. He was tired, could feel the ache of fatigue settle like an old friend in his bones, but his mind refused him the pleasure of rest, his past reflections and the somberness of his future keeping his mind from settling.
</p><p>
With a sniffle, Nicky cleared his throat and looked to the heavens above, the milky white of a star scattered night sky shining dim in the light pollution of London that stretched for miles out, leaving only the brightest of the stars to twinkle high above him. He settled back against the shingles, mind travelling back to the life changing events of Merrick and the heavy weight of Booker’s sentence mixed with the dread of Andy’s mortality that had followed. 
</p><p>
The pain of Booker’s betrayal and the man’s own self destructive ways had Nicky’s eyes welling in sympathy, his mind working overtime to scour through every interaction, every well timed sharp-tongued criticism Booker had said throughout the years, to try and find where it all went wrong. Where they had all so royally screwed up to make Booker feel as though the only reasonable action was to seek solace in the hands of a psychotic sharp-tongued devil with an inferiority complex. 
</p><p>
“Thought I’d find you out here.”
</p><p>
Nicky didn’t startle at the soft timbre, the quiet voice causing the edges of his mouth to tick up in gentle amusement, as he glanced out of his periphery to see Andy shoving herself up and over the ledge of the roof. 
</p><p>
“You’re lucky Joe sleeps like a hibernating bear.” Andy commented with a breath, her knees knocking against his own as she settled beside him.
</p><p>
“My love is many things but a light sleeper he is not.” Nicky agreed, curling his hands around his knees and drawing them close to his chest, his breath a puff of white in the darkened night. 
</p><p>
With a hum of amusement, Andy bumped her shoulder into Nicky’s with a small smile. “Any reason <em>Pensive Nicky</em> decided to rear his introspective head tonight?” 
</p><p>
“Sleep has decided to evade me tonight.” Nicky explained with a shrug.
</p><p>
Andy nodded and clicked her tongue thoughtfully, “And last night too, if the sound of banging across the roof was anything to go by.”
</p><p>
Nicky bowed his head, eyes focusing on the worn and frayed spot of fabric over his knee. He’d have to to patch them soon, he realized, still unused to the concept of throwing out clothes that had become threadbare and tattered instead of patching them and fixing the shabby fabric.  
</p><p>
“Want to talk about it?” 
</p><p>
He looked over to Andy with a sigh and leaned back as far as his interlocked hands would let him. “Do you think we were justified in our decision?”
</p><p>
Andy pursed her lips and nodded, “I think we did what we thought was best.” 
</p><p>
Nicky shook his head, eyes turning to plead with his older sister, “But how can we possibly think it right to condemn Booker for our oversight? How many of Booker's caveats had we perceived as nothing more than misgivings? How many times had we watched him seek relief in the bottom of a bottle and believe everything to be fine? It is not right, Andromache. Our brother needs help and we left him cold, lost, and to flounder in desperation.”
</p><p>
“Nicky,” Andy started and paused, taking a breath to gather her thoughts, “we need time. <em>All of us</em>. Booker is still so very young and has never had a chance to deal with his grief and mourn the loss of his mortality. As much as we love him, as much as we know he loves us, his sorrow hangs around him as an ever present fog that refuses to lift and let him see the world around him as anything other than a punishment. We almost lost everything, we need time apart, so we can heal.” 
</p><p>
Nicky rubbed his shoulder against the warmth he could feel itching at the corner of his eye. “Nile has said there are special people who help deal with this type of issue. Maybe if…<em>what if</em> we talk to Booker about it? Tell him we can reduce his sentence if he seeks help?” 
</p><p>
“We can discuss it more in the morning, Nicky.” Andy said with a slap to Nicky’s knee, “You need sleep.”
</p><p>
“Of course, just let me shut my brain off.” Nicky grouched with a shake of his head.
</p><p>
“I could always push you off the roof, pretty sure that’d help you sleep.” Andy suggested, smirking at the eye roll she received in response. “I know it’s hard, Nicky… but I swear to you, in the years I have left-<em>no, let me finish</em>.” Andy said with a wave of her hand when Nicky opened his mouth to interrupt.  “I won’t leave this world until my family is safe and back together.”
</p><p>
“<em>Andy…</em>” Nicky murmured with a sniffle, eyes watering at the notion that his big sister wasn’t long for this world- a mere blink in the expanse of their existence. A sob burbled from him quickly followed by another. The tightness in his chest that seemed to pull tears from him, wheezing sobs wracking his body as Andy pulled him close, began to ease. Tension working itself from his taut muscles at the soothing hushed platitudes from Andy. The world had changed so much in the last week that Nicky hadn’t realized how tight his chest had become, how hard he had been fighting for each breath until the warmth wrapped around him and the tears falling from him broke through the tension and allowed him to relax.
</p><p>
Andy kept her grip tight on Nicky while he cried. She shushed him softly while her hands rubbed soothing circles across his back. She kept up her ministrations until the choked sobs began to quiet and slow before finally stopping all together leaving Nicky pliant and even breathed beneath her touch. “Nicky?”
</p><p>
The question hung unanswered. 
</p><p>
“Nicky?” She tried again leaning back to see the younger man had fallen asleep. Andy blew a heavy breath and looked around the roof with a sigh.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And then, because Andy is a big softie, she ended up sleeping on the roof huddled against Nicky because she was too afraid to try and wake poor exhausted Nicky. ;D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. You’re not making any sense</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 24:<br/>Forced Mutism | <b>Blindfolded</b> | <b>Sensory Deprivation(sort of)</b></p><p>“I am a very selfish man, Nico, you know I don’t like to share your attention with anyone.” Joe murmured, gently leaning forward and resting his hands over Nicky’s ears to muffle and block any unwanted outside sound except for the blood pumping through the veins in his palms. Hoping the beat of his heart would be enough to bring Nicky out of his zone out.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Soooo, a funny thing happened with this chapter... I wanted to do a sentinel/guide AU-ish thing with this but it had been a hot minute since I had seen The Sentinel so I started watching the show again and then my trash brain was like hey-yo Blair/Jim fanfic, woot-woot! So, I kind of got writer's block and then went down the fanfic rabbit hole for a bit and then the holidays happened but, I'm back now unless writer's block decides to rear its ugly head again.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was something awful and pungent wafting up from the street below that sent a tickle through Nicky’s nose and had him sniffing in disdain. Nicky figured from the putrid smell of sulfur and sea salt seeping through the window that their lovely accommodations must have been downwind from a leather tannery. He sniffed once more and adjusted his grip on the sniper rifle before he glanced up at Nile, the youngest of them wringing her hands as she looked through the window to the busy Moroccan street market below. Her nervousness settled around him like an itchy blanket and rattled the unease that had been a constant annoyance from the moment Andy had agreed to take their current job. Which consisted of Joe being bait for their mark in hopes of finding their clients son, who had disappeared almost a week prior from the very market he and Nile were spying on.</p><p>
“It’ll be fine. Joe has done this before, right?” The question fell unanswered, leaving Nile to raise an eyebrow in worry, her attention turning from the window she was peeking out of to the still form of Nicky kneeling on the floor, his body tense with focus while he peered through the scope of his gun. 
</p><p>
“Totally done this before.” Nile reassured herself, crouching down beside Nicky to look through the window, eyes flitting from one brightly colored market stall to the next. She squinted and tried to scan the crowded streets and alleys below looking for Andy and Joe but was unable to discern one person from the next. “How can you even tell where they are?”
</p><p>
Nicky smiled softly at the question, “I always know where Joe is, he is my heart and guides my senses.”
</p><p>
“Are you two ever <em>not</em> sappy romantics?” Nile wondered aloud, no sarcasm in her tone, just honest curiosity. She had never met a couple so devoted to one another, except for in the faint nostalgic memories of her mom and dad. It was truly heartwarming. 
</p><p>
“Sometimes, when there is nothing to do, we’re very maudlin.” Nicky answered truthfully and then chuckled when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nile scrunch her face.
</p><p>
“You two barely have any inhibitions now,” Nile started, trying her best to sort through the throng of market goers below, “I’d hate to add alcohol into the mix, too.” 
</p><p>
“One day, dearest Nile, you will find someone that makes your heart flutter and your face flush a beautiful red as you coyly watch them fall before you on bended knee-”
</p><p>
<em>”Target is inbound.”</em>
</p><p>
At Joe’s voice over the comms, Nicky quieted and slowly scanned the crowd before his sights landed on a man wearing what appeared to be a very pristine black suit made of silk-<em>and, if Nicky had to guess, probably the finest the region had to offer</em>-flanked by a man and a woman dressed in intricately beaded djellaba.
</p><p>
“Two streets over from the spice stall, Nile, do you see them?” Nicky questioned, looking over to see Nile squinting and scanning the crowd before shaking her head <em>no</em>. 
</p><p>
<em>”I got eyes on them. Joe, remember, intel only, we don’t want to spook ‘em.”</em>
</p><p>
<em>”Got it, Boss. Hello, Mr. Sondermann! It is nice to finally put a face to the name!”</em>
</p><p>
“Here.” Nicky said, unfurling himself from his kneeling position, “You’re good with a gun, you’re getting snipper lessons today.” 
</p><p>
“What?” Nile squeaked, “Nicky, I’ve never done any scout sniping during my active duty-...”
</p><p>
“It will be fine, you need to learn and this is the perfect time.” Nicky explained and gently pushed Nile over in front of the gun, hands resting on her shoulders while he looked down to the streets below, keeping a watchful eye on the forms of his husband and the three culprits. 
</p><p>
“You say that,” Nile murmured but was already moving into a more comfortable position so she could peer through the scope more easily, “until the wind picks up and I miss and end up kneecapping some poor innocent bystander instead.” 
</p><p>
“Then don’t miss.” Nicky suggested with a grin and a pat to her shoulders before he stepped away to lean against the window frame.
</p><p>
“Great advice, you should do a TED talk.” Nile snarked back with a roll of her eyes. 
</p><p>
With an amused shake of the head, Nicky returned his attention to the meeting below trusting Nile to get his attention if she had any concerns. The unease that had pestered him since they’d begun this job was starting to become an annoyance. He couldn’t pinpoint where exactly the agitation was coming from but it was fueling the unrest within him and making him jittery. A sensation that he did not welcome. He shifted his stance and crossed his arms, gaze flicking away from Joe for a moment to rest on some seemingly innocuous window in the high-rise across the marketplace.
</p><p>
<em>”Joe, see if you can get him to acknowledge his dealings with the auction house, specifically the day the kid was there.”</em>
</p><p>
Nicky ignored Andy over the comms and turned his focus to the high-rise when something flashed from one of the building's many windows. He moved away from the edge of the window to stand behind Nile, his gaze scrutinizing the area of the building where he thought he saw the flash originate from. He strained to focus on a section of building off to the left, eyes aching as he blinked against the pain from the overly bright sun reflecting off various points outside, when another flash of white had him zeroing in on a small window on the far left side of the building to see a darkened figure hunched over a gun same as Nile was in front of him. He couldn’t tell, with the way the man was leaning over the rifle, whether it was loaded or not but Nicky wasn’t willing to take a chance. 
</p><p>
Nicky tapped the comm in his ear, “Boss, we have a watcher, hands are red and possibly hot.”
</p><p>
<em>”Shit.”</em>
</p><p>
“Nicky?” 
</p><p>
Nicky didn’t turn his attention from the gunman at Nile’s call just shook his head to signal her to be quiet.
</p><p>
<em>”Joe, we’re backing out.”</em> A beat of silence, <em>”Joe? Damn-it, Nicky get me ears on him, now!”</em>
</p><p>
Something cold gripped Nicky’s chest, his heart stuttering at the thought of Joe down below cut off from the comms, “Nile, focus on the building across the way, third window from the left.” 
</p><p>
“But, Joe-...”
</p><p>
“I can’t split my attention, if the person even flinches, shoot them.” Nicky commanded, blinking sensitive eyes away from their unexpected interloper and turning his attention back to Joe and their target below.
</p><p>
Nicky closed his eyes, cleared his mind, and expanded his awareness to the world below. The chatter of the market goers overpowering his consciousness with their incessantly loud voices. It had been a long while since Nicky had had to use his abilities. Modern technology had all but made his underlying sentinel ability moot and he had unintentionally become lax in the last couple of decades, something he knew Joe would admonish him about later; but, for now, Nicky shook his hands, took a deep breath, and allowed his focus to settle on the soft <em>lub-dub</em> of Joe’s heart.
</p><p>
Nicky relaxed his shoulders and could feel the soft whispers of Joe's soothing voice and the rumbly timbre of their target perfectly, almost as if they were holding their conversation in the room he and Nile were occupying. With a blink, Nicky opened his eyes and watched as Sondermann reached out and gripped Joe’s shoulder’s with an over confident smile. Nicky pursed his lips at the move, something fierce and protective resonating deep within him at the unwarranted touch to Joe’s person. 
</p><p>
<em>”You tell me about your dealings with the Dubois family and maybe I let you walk away from this.”</em>
</p><p>
Nicky watched Joe smile innocently, his husband's shoulders shaking from quiet laughter.
</p><p>
<em>“Why, I have no idea what you are referring to, Mr. Sondermann.”</em>
</p><p>
The answer was apparently not the one Sondermann was looking for because Nicky could see the vile man grip Joe’s shoulder’s that much tighter.
</p><p>
<em>“Have it your way.”</em>
</p><p>
Nicky watched the nimble fingers of Sondermann release Joe as the man stepped back to stand beside his cronies, the man’s smile snake like and unsettling. Nicky heard Andy grumble something over the comms but he couldn’t discern the words, his attention solely on Joe and the way his husband's head tilted just so and how the sun glinted off the deep brown of Joe’s eyes as his husband stared curiously at Sondermann. Sondermann snapped his fingers and something burst like a clap of thunder through Nicky’s senses, sending him keening away from the window and crashing to the ground while the world around him splintered in suddenly vivid detail. The grain of the wood was too sharp beneath him, rough splinters snagging his skin as he curled in on himself to try and alleviate his overstimulated system. 
</p><p>
Nicky tried to find his center, tried to chase after the gentleness of Joe’s heartbeat to get back to his baseline but he couldn’t hear anything over the screaming and angry shouts of the marketplace outside and the distant blaring of emergency vehicles. Nicky turned to stare at the ceiling, eyes zoning in on a browned patch of tile above. He allowed the world to fall away as he pushed all the unnecessary sensations from his consciousness and centered himself on the water spot above.
</p><p>
~Oo~o~oO~
</p><p>
“I broke Nicky!” Nile shouted in worry when Joe and Andy entered the room what felt like an eternity later.
</p><p>
“Andy.” Joe whispered, eyes already on the prone form of his love, who was staring blankly at the ceiling above seemingly unaware of the world around him. 
</p><p>
The older woman nodded and moved to pull Nile up from the floor to give Joe room. “Nile, you didn’t break Nicky.”  
</p><p>
“But-...” Nile protested, eyes lingering on Nicky and watching on in concern as Joe pulled his shirt off and knelt beside Nicky’s prostrate form. 
</p><p>
“Just watch and we’ll explain after.” Andy said with a nod towards where Joe was draping his shirt over Nicky’s eyes, arranging the fabric just so before settling himself into a more comfortable position beside his love. 
</p><p>
“But I don’t-...”
</p><p>
Andy shook her head, “After, promise.”
</p><p>
Joe rested his hand against Nicky’s chest with a frown. “Nicky? Nicolò, come back to me. Dangers passed, <em>hayati</em>.” 
</p><p>
Joe frowned and curled his fingers in Nicky’s salmon colored button down. “So not just sight then, huh, my beloved?”
</p><p>
With a hum, Joe released Nicky’s shirt and swung his leg over the man’s abdomen and situated himself against Nicky's jean clad thighs.
</p><p>
“I am a very selfish man, Nico, you know I don’t like to share your attention with anyone.” Joe murmured, gently leaning forward and resting his hands over Nicky’s ears to muffle and block any unwanted outside sound except for the blood pumping through the veins in his palms. Hoping the beat of his heart would be enough to bring Nicky out of his zone out.
</p><p>
Joe could feel Nicky’s breath speed up and his husband's muscles twitch beneath him but nothing else. Joe sighed and focused on the thread of emotion that bonded him and Nicky and allowed his own feelings to strengthen the link between them, allowing him to find Nicky’s consciousness tucked away from the world in some darkened outlier and tug. Joe smiled as he leaned down and pressed his warm lips against Nicky’s own chilled ones, pulling Nicky out of his insensibility. 
</p><p>
Joe grinned against Nicky’s lips when his love’s hands moved to grip his own.
</p><p>
“Too loud.” 
</p><p>
At the rough whisper, Joe sat up, looked towards Andy and Nile before nodding towards the door, silently asking them to give him and Nicky a moment. 
</p><p>
Andy nodded and herded Nile out of the room, closing the door as silently as possible behind them. 
</p><p>
“Better?” Joe questioned quietly, thumbs rubbing lazy circles beside Nicky’s eyes. 
</p><p>
Nicky <em>hmmm’d</em> and let his hands fall away from Joe’s. “Zoned…”
</p><p>
“Yes you did, love, scared poor Nile.” Joe murmured, leaning down to touch his forehead against Nicky’s, “You are out of practice, I haven’t had to pull you out of a zone out since the early 1900’s when we lost Booker at that wildlife park and you worried yourself into a zone thinking Booker had been eaten by a tiger.” 
</p><p>
Nick laughed softly, “He wanted to pet them, the fool.”
</p><p>
With a low chuckle, Joe pulled his hands away from Nicky’s ears, “Think you can stand?”
</p><p>
“Mmm, worth a try, leave the blindfold on. Almost too bright even with it.”
</p><p>
“As you wish, <em>hayati</em>.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Nicky and Joe seem like they were made for a sentinel/guide AU and I'm kind of sad that there aren't any posted that I know of. :(</p><p>Thank you all for over a 100 subs for this little set of one shots and the numerous reviews and kudos!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. I Think I'll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 25:<br/>I think I’ll just collapse right here, thanks<br/><b>Disorientation</b> | <b>Blurred Vision</b> | <b>Ringing Ears</b></p><p>For a brief moment total silence settled over the busy street, almost as if the world realized the importance of the next moment and needed a breath, before time seemed to speed up with a brilliant white flash of light engulfing the small area before the deafening sound of glass shattering and people screaming gave way to the world shaking and exploding around them. Nile and Joe had only moments to understand what had happened before a blast knocked into them and sent them crashing unceremoniously to the ground shrapnel and grit covering them like a second skin. A second blast sounded but Nile was gone before she felt the impact.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Character death in this <strike>for like all of three seconds because I can't leave any of these goobers dead permanently</strike> but just be aware. </p><p>I wrote this before and after work yesterday and gave it a once over this morning so please let me know if there's any mistakes, otherwise enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How do you deal with knowing you’ll outlive all those around you?” Nile wondered aloud, subconsciously swizzling the blue straw of her iced coffee, attention seemingly on some random spot on the bistro table she and Joe were sitting at outside a coffee house in downtown Lima. Nile blinked slowly and turned her focus from the table to the crowd of people walking up and down the sidewalk beside them.</p><p>
“You try to rationalize it.” Joe began, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Try to tell yourself that there must be a reason that you were giving this gift. You’ll try and understand why you were chosen to continue on when others more deserving were not.”
</p><p>
“So, like, some form of messed up survivor’s guilt?” 
</p><p>
Joe gave a half smile at the Nile’s summation, “I suppose, in a way. But, in all honesty, Nile? There is no good answer to a question such as that…” 
</p><p>
Nile unconsciously picked at the paper grip on her cup, eyes glossy as she looked over to Joe. “So we just have to accept that we may never understand the how or the why behind any of this?”
</p><p>
“All we can do is try and do some good while we’re here.” Joe replied, hand rubbing across his mouth and scratching at his beard. “Because, in the end? In the end, we are nothing more than the sum total of our doings and in the face of a higher being, whether that is Allah or God or some other sacred force,  when our time comes, we will be faced with those doings at the moment of our death and judged accordingly.”
</p><p>
“Andy doesn’t believe in…” Nile rolled her eyes heavenward and twirled her finger beside her head, “you know, <em>The Big Guy</em>.”
</p><p>
Joe chuckled with a thoughtful nod, “I suppose when you spend the latter parts of your early life being worshiped as a deity it is kind of hard to believe in any type of omniscient being.”
</p><p>
“You think,” Nile started and once more began to play with the straw in her drink, “when we reach that age, we’ll be as jaded?”
</p><p>
“Life has been very cruel to Andromache these past centuries.” Joe commented, mind wandering back to Quynh’s confinement, Booker’s betrayal, and Andy’s sudden and new found mortality. “But I feel as though meeting you has renewed her vigor towards life.” 
</p><p>
“Me?” Nile squeaked, eyes wide.
</p><p>
Joe smiled at Nile with a wink before he sipped his latte, relishing in the sweetness of the spiced drink. 
</p><p>
For a brief moment total silence settled over the busy street, almost as if the world realized the importance of the next moment and needed a breath, before time seemed to speed up with a brilliant white flash of light engulfing the small area before the deafening sound of glass shattering and people screaming gave way to the world shaking and exploding around them. Nile and Joe had only moments to understand what had happened before a blast knocked into them and sent them crashing unceremoniously to the ground shrapnel and grit covering them like a second skin. A second blast sounded but Nile was gone before she felt the impact.
</p><p>
 ~Oo~o~oO~
</p><p>
Nile groaned, her hands shaky as she scrabbled against the broken and jagged ground beneath her as she slowly clawed her way back to life. She pushed herself up to her knees, breath haggard and wet as she took in the blurred sight of smoldering paper and still burning napkins floating like feathers on the wind to the ground around her. The heat of the scattered flames at her back were reflected in the windows of the buildings across the street and the shattered windows of overturned and smoking cars on the street. 
</p><p>
The scene around her did not seem to truly register as she shouted for Dizzy and Jay, the sound of her voice distorted and distant against the incessant ringing in her ears and muffled car alarms going off. Had they been hit? She couldn’t remember the base alarms going off, she couldn’t… Nile screamed when it felt as though her head was being split open, she curled around her knees and let her forehead rest against the torn and littered ground. Something sharp and agonizing pushed at her skull for a few short seconds before something fell to the ground beside her with a small <em>tink</em> with relief quickly following as her nerves seemed to settle and the pain subsided to a dull ache.
</p><p>
She blinked and stared at the bloody and jagged piece of metal sitting innocently beside her head. Nile closed her eyes for a breath before everything rushed back to her, “Joe!”
</p><p>
Nile shoved herself back up to her knees, vision already cleared by the time she turned to her left to see Joe gasping and pawing at the ground, the umbrella pole from their table pinning him to the sidewalk, like a butterfly pinned to a mounting board.
</p><p>
“Shit, Joe!” Nile pushed herself to a shaky stand and stumbled her way over to her friend, hands trembling as she grasped the pole and pulled. She swallowed against the bile she could feel burning at her esophagus when the umbrella pole fell free from Joe’s back with a horrid squelching sound. 
</p><p>
“Joe, come on, man.” She murmured coughing and shoving at Joe’s back when she saw him flounder for one more gasp of breath before stilling beneath her hands. “<em>Fuck.</em>”
</p><p>
Nile looked up to see gawkers starting to crowd the streets and civilians rushing to help those scattered along the sidewalk. She could see the flashing of red, white, and blue in the distance and mentally cursed. She needed to get Joe mobile and find Nicky and Andy-<em>shit,Andy</em>! 
</p><p>
Not thinking clearly, Nile stood so quickly that the world around her tilted for a moment before righting. She had to find Andy, the woman was too human to be around anything remotely as destructive as whatever the hell had happened here, bomb maybe? 
</p><p>
“Andy!” Nile called while she staggered towards the broken and still burning front of the coffee shop. “Andy!?”
</p><p>
“Nile!” The call seared through the remnants of the ringing in her ears, the splintered and shattered sound to Nicky’s voice spurred her quickly forward to see Nicky hunched, broken and bleeding over the battered and bloodied form of Andy, her head resting in the gore of Nicky’s still healing legs, her eyes red and glassy and gaze a million miles away. Nile made her way forward and could see Andy murmuring something too quiet to understand as her hands wrapped loosely around Nicky’s forearms, the blood spattered across her face standing out in stark contrast against the ashen pallor of her skin.
</p><p>
Nile choked and brought a hand to her mouth to stifle the sob she could feel building within her. She fell to her knees beside Nicky, unsure of what she should or even could do at this point. The realization that something so mundane - and when did a <em>bomb</em> become something so monotonous in her life? - would be Andy’s end. 
</p><p>
“Nile, I-I can’t stop the bleeding.” Nicky whispered, his hands trying and failing to put enough pressure on the giant gash across Andy’s chest to stem the flow of blood quickly leaking through. “I-I should know what to do, but I...” 
</p><p>
“Nicky…” Nile tried, her voice cracking as she listened to the rattle of Andy’s breath, a soft gurgle that had her turning away from the pleading eyes of Nicky as her own began to burn from unshed tears. It was too soon, they were supposed to have had years and it’d only been months. 
</p><p>
“W-we are right here, Andromache. Always, right here.” Nicky choked out his voice small and almost child-like. 
</p><p>
Nile met Nicky's eyes for a brief moment when she turned back before she lowered her gaze. She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed roughly. An indiscernible jumble of words burbled from Andy and had Nicky and Nile looking down in time to see Andy smile before the older woman’s body stilled beneath Nicky’s hands. 
</p><p>
“Andy? Andromache!” Nicky cried out, blood stained hands quickly moving to lightly slap his sister's cheek. “No, no-no, Andy, please.”
</p><p>
Nile swiped at her eyes when the warmth from her tears blurred her vision. She sniffled and reached out to grip Andy’s lax hand tightly, Nicky’s quiet and strained italian words a gentle background noise to her grief.
</p><p>
Something clattered from behind them and Nile turned with a sniff to see Joe leaning heavily into the broken and burned out window frame of the coffee shop, shirt clinging tightly to him from blood as his chest heaved, his eyes bright and questioning. She lightly shook her head and watched as Joe’s legs gave way and he fell with a harsh breath to the ground.
</p><p>
 ~Oo~o~oO~
</p><p>
“Copley, he-uh…” Nile cleared her throat and nodded, “Booker’s on his way.”
</p><p>
“That’s good.” Joe replied softly, watching as Nicky placed a blue glass beaded rosary onto the white sheet placed delicately over Andy’s body, the lord’s prayer falling in hushed tones from his husband's lips as Nicky said his good-byes to the sister they’d known for almost a thousand years. “He deserves to say his good-byes.”
</p><p>
Nile shoved her hands into her jacket and turned to Joe with a sigh, “What the hell do we do now?” 
</p><p>
“We do what Andy would want us to do, pick ourselves back up and we continue to fight for what we believe is right and try to make this world a better place.”
</p><p>
Nile hummed and turned to see Nicky make the sign of the cross before stepping back and crowding into Joe’s personal space. She smiled at the gentle kiss Joe pressed to Nicky’s temple before he wrapped his arms around Nicky’s shoulders and pulled the man close. 
</p><p>
Nile shuffled forward a few steps to stand at the end of the bed that they had laid Andy to rest on with a deep sigh. “I honestly don’t know what to say. Words are definitely not my strong suit.” 
</p><p>
With a heavy blink, Nile sniffled and quickly rubbed at her nose. “I owe you my freedom, I know that, lord only knows what weird government basement I’d currently be locked up in if you hadn’t showed up.” 
</p><p>
Nile reached out and rested her trembling hand on Andy’s ankle, “Thank you.” She whispered and gave Andy’s ankle a squeeze before a giant gasp resounded from under the white sheet. Nile would deny it later but she let loose a shrill scream and slammed her fist into the covered face as the body beneath her shot up with a cry.
</p><p>
“Son of bitch!” The phantom hissed as the cover fell away to reveal Andy stemming the flow of blood flowing from her nose. “What the <em>fuck</em>, Nile!”
</p><p>
“What the fuck <em>me</em>? How about <em>you</em>! You’re supposed to be dead!” Nile shouted, wide eyed and just this side of totally freaking out. 
</p><p>
“Andy!” Joe shouted at the same time as Nicky, both men stared dumbfounded at the scene before them unsure what was going on. It had been hours since they had watched Andy pass on the floor of the coffee shop, this should have been impossible. Nothing short of a miracle, Nicky would later say.  
</p><p>
Andy grinned, “Apparently it wasn’t my time.”
</p><p>
Nile leapt forward and hugged Andy tightly, followed by Nicky and Joe quickly joining in.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all for continuing to read and review it definitely fuels the muses and I always love seeing what sparks everyone's interest! I do have a small list going of one shots I want to expand on and have started on a few of them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. If You Thought The Head Trauma Was Bad...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 26:<br/><b>Migraine</b> | Concussion | Blindness</p><p>Nicky pouted slightly, knowing that Joe’s <em>double checking</em> a few things would probably include lots of harsh words towards Booker and most likely a few insults to the poor man's livelihood. But, he was honestly too tired and achy at that moment to truly care what Joe and Booker would get up to, the tight pressure from earlier was starting to push against the back of his right eye and he wanted nothing more at that moment then to be reacquainted with the houses hot water system to help try and relieve the pain.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, bigger wounds take longer to heal... well, a head shot - to me, anyhow - seems like a pretty big wound. So have some overly worded Nicky with a migraine and Joe giving him a massage after like 1k of build-up to it, kind of?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hours later, when the sun had begun to settle and their car had started to swerve unsteadily beneath Andy’s blood caked hands and tired eyes, they finally pulled off the road and into a driveway that rested alongside a rustic country cottage shrouded in ivy and wisteria, the darkened windows peaking through the overgrowth of purple and green.</p><p>
“No!” Joe vehemently stated, when he realized just where exactly they had stopped. “I do not want this man in our home.”
</p><p>
“Joe,” Nicky whispered from the backseat, his voice hoarse and low, “my heart, we are all tired and Andy, whether she’d be loathe to admit it or not, needs her wound attended to.”
</p><p>
Joe looked up to see Nicky’s pinched and tired gaze in the rearview mirror and tried to ignore how, in the faint pinks and oranges of the late evening sky, he could still see remnants of bone and dried gore flaking on Nicky’s neck and shirt collar. A vivid reminder of why he didn’t want <em>that man</em> in his and Nicky’s home. Their home was a place of love and laughter, where memories outside of their professional life were created and remembered fondly, and where their family gathered to celebrate; he didn’t want that sullied with the acts of the last few days by allowing Booker inside. 
</p><p>
“I can sleep at a hotel.” Booker offered, wincing when Joe turned to look at him with anger darkened eyes. Eyes that had Booker clearing his throat and ruefully looking down at his lap, the hole in the thigh of his jeans framed with the dried blood from a shot he had taken earlier that day was suddenly very interesting to him. 
</p><p>
“I don’t want you out of my sight.” 
</p><p>
Nicky sighed, he loved his husband but sometimes the man was incorrigible, “You can’t have it both ways, my love.”
</p><p>
“Then he can sleep in the car!” Joe retorted angrily, cringing when he saw Nicky wince at his loud tone. He crossed his arms and looked out the window to the shrubbery lining the driveway.
</p><p>
“Joe.” Andy pleaded, something she rarely, if ever, did, her hand reaching over to gently rest on his knee. “The next reliable safehouse is hours away and a hotel would only invite trouble considering it looks as though we were caught in a warzone. This was the closest option.”
</p><p>
With a heavy sigh, Joe shoved the car door open, a rough <em>whatever</em> tumbling from him as he slammed the door shut and loudly made his way into the house.
</p><p>
Nile swallowed nervously in the tense quiet that had followed Joe’s departure before looking at Nicky and awkwardly commenting, “Uh-you have a lovely home?”
</p><p>
Nicky huffed a small laugh and gingerly moved to open the door, pulling himself up and out of the car before he made his way to the driver side to help Andy into the house. Which was slow going considering how stiff and sore Andy’s body had become during the long drive. 
</p><p>
Nicky bore as much of her weight as he could while Andy gingerly stepped up the few steps to the door, her breath fast from pain and her hand, which she had moved to grip her gunshot wound, was now wet with fresh blood from having aggravated the injury. 
</p><p>
“Say what you will but at least Book’s a decent shot.” Andy grumped with a wince. Her body sagging back into the cushions of the couch as Nicky helped guide her to them. 
</p><p>
“If that was supposed to be a joke, it wasn’t funny.” Nicky reprimanded, frowning as Andy grinned up at him, pinching her thumb and pointer finger close together.
</p><p>
“It’s a little funny.”
</p><p>
Nicky shook his head, “A comedian you are not, <em>big sister</em>.” 
</p><p>
“You just don’t…” Andy shifted on the couch with a wince, “don’t have a good sense of humor, <em>little brother.</em>”
</p><p>
“Andy, do you understand we could have lost you? What if Booker had decided that an immobilizing shot wasn’t good enough? What if he’d shot you in the chest? Or, God forbid, the head? You would have died and we never would have…” Nicky trailed off and ran a nervous hand through his hair, wincing when his fingers brushed over the still sensitive part of his skull from his own headshot earlier. He swallowed against the lingering bitter taste of gunpowder and did his best to ignore the starbursts of color the action caused. Nicky closed his eyes with a deep breath. “We would have lost you.”
</p><p>
“Nicky,” Andy murmured and pushed herself to sit straighter waiting till Nicky opened his eyes and looked at her before continuing, “I’m right here and I promise I’m not going anywhere.”
</p><p>
Nicky shook his head, wincing from the pressure he could feel building in his skull. There was a weariness in the way he spoke next, his eyes bright from the knowledge that the words were nothing more than a false platitude. “You can’t promise that, Andy. Not now.”
</p><p>
A knock to the wall behind them had the both of them turning to see Nile standing uncomfortably in the doorway. 
</p><p>
“I-uh… I found the first aid supplies but most of this stuff is outdated and apparently the band aids are Lazytown characters? I kind of want to ask but on the other hand...” Nile trailed off, holding up one of the many small bandages from the box, this one a vibrant yellow with a picture of Sportacus flexing his biceps on the small adhesive. 
</p><p>
“A housewarming gift from Booker.” Nicky supplied, “He thought it was hilarious at the time.”
</p><p>
The room fell silent after that, Nile and Nicky both working to clean and restitch Andy’s wound, trying not to let every flinch and groan from Andy affect their work. By the time they were done Booker had made his way into the living room with a glass of water and a couple of white pills to help Andy with the pain, Joe trailing behind the man like a shadow, eyes a cloud of distrust and resolve while he watched Booker help Andy lay back on the couch and settle for the night. 
</p><p>
“I’m fine guys, go, shoo, you all reek like sweat and rot.” Andy murmured a short time later, her eyes slipping closed when the pills finally did their work and allowed her to relax enough to fall asleep.
</p><p>
“I can stay with her, make sure she-.”
</p><p>
“No,” Joe interrupted with the shake of his head at Booker’s offer, “you have done more than enough.”
</p><p>
At Booker’s sigh, Nile waved her hand half-heartedly. “I can watch her, I probably won’t be able to sleep anyways, too wound up.”
</p><p>
“Thank you, Nile.” Nicky replied with a grateful smile, muscles stiff as he looked towards Joe with a questioning stare, his head tilting slightly towards the stairs.
</p><p>
“You go ahead, habibi, I will be there in a moment. I want to double check a few things.”
</p><p>
Nicky pouted slightly, knowing that Joe’s <em>double checking</em> a few things would probably include lots of harsh words towards Booker and most likely a few insults to the poor man's livelihood. But, he was honestly too tired and achy at that moment to truly care what Joe and Booker would get up to, the tight pressure from earlier was starting to push against the back of his right eye and he wanted nothing more at that moment then to be reacquainted with the houses hot water system to help try and relieve the pain. 
</p><p>
Nicky made his way upstairs, stopping by the bedroom to grab a pair of ancient looking striped pajama bottoms and a plain white shirt before making his way towards the bathroom. He had just barely shut the door, when the world around him wavered and sent his stomach sloshing in distress. He swallowed thickly and gripped the vanity tightly until the world around him settled into an overbright starburst of color around him. The buzzing from the fluorescent lights above reverberated in his ears and had his ear drums pounding, the muscles in his neck tight and aching from the noise.
</p><p>
Nicky squinted against the fluorescent lighting, the pain that had started behind his eye now spreading and throbbing in tandem with his heartbeat. He let out a whimper and fumbled blindly for the light switch, plunging the bathroom into blessed darkness. Nicky started to move towards the toilet to sit and take a moment but the motion had his stomach protesting. He barely had time to lift the lid before the contents of his stomach - which was pretty much nothing since the doctors weren’t really concerned with feeding Joe and him during their stay - made a glorious comeback. 
</p><p>
Nicky cringed at the sour smell and flushed the toilet, ears twinging from the whooshing sound as he pushed himself back to rest against the wall, his hands working to knead at his temples to try and relieve the pressure there. The circular motion seemed to help until a wave of stabbing pain split through his skull and sent him curling forward over his bent knees, eyes watering. He couldn’t remember the last time his head felt like this, a tight pressure that made it feel as though the weight of the world was pressing down on his head. 
</p><p>
“Nicolò?” 
</p><p>
The quiet call and accompanying knock had Nicky whining and trying to shift away from the sound. The click of the door opening and the flood of light from the hallway made him groan.
</p><p>
“Nicolò, are you-Nico!” 
</p><p>
Nicky blinked up at the loud exclamation to see Joe hovering worriedly above him, his husband’s hands outstretched and hesitant, as if he was unsure what to do. 
</p><p>
“My head.” He croaked with a sob.
</p><p>
Joe said something too quiet and harsh for Nicky to catch but the gentle fingers carding through his hair made him realize that the words weren’t directed at him. “I’ll be right back. I need to grab a few things from the bedroom.”
</p><p>
Nicky shivered at the loss of Joe’s warm hands but he didn’t have to wait long before his husband was back and settling down beside him, Joe’s hands reaching to pull his bloodstained shirt off. Nicky peeked at Joe, watching as the man moved to close the door to the bathroom with a quiet click, shrouding the room in darkness once more.
</p><p>
“Here,” Joe whispered and Nicky let him guide him down to the cool tile of the floor to lay on his stomach, a wave of relief washing over him as his heated skin met the chilled tiles. “If the scent is too strong let me know.”
</p><p>
Nicky <em>hmmm’d</em> as the faint smell of mint and camphor layered with a woody balsamic scent drifted from behind him, “Rosemary.” He murmured, shuddering when something cool and gel-like was poured onto his back, followed by Joe’s warm hands spreading the substance over his skin.
</p><p>
He willed himself to relax when Joe’s hands curled around his shoulders before pushing towards the center of his back and gliding up to the base of his neck and rubbing at the pressure points found there before repeating the process, hands molding around the curve of his shoulder before pushing towards his spine and up towards the base of his neck before gently kneading the pressure points. 
</p><p>
The tight pressure in his neck slowly began to dissipate and the pounding in his head started to dull as Joe continued his massage, his love’s hands rubbing tiny circles from his neck to his shoulders, working to release the tension that had built up in his muscles.
</p><p>
Joe slowly moved his hands up and down Nicky’s neck and shoulders, trying to ignore the coppery odor that was starting to mix unpleasantly with the rosemary oil, as he continued to press and rub at muscles and pressure points. His focus on making Nicky pliant beneath him as he worked to loosen tight muscles. 
</p><p>
“You have amazing hands, love.” Nicky whispered, a yawn escaping him as his body seemed to melt into the flooring.
</p><p>
“Feeling better?” Joe questioned softly, his hands coming to rest on Nicky’s shoulder blades. 
</p><p>
“Very much so. I forgot how much a head injury hurts when it is healing.” Nicky answered, grinning when he felt the soft press of Joe’s lips against the base of his neck. 
</p><p>
“Think you can handle a shower?” 
</p><p>
Nicky shivered at the hushed question as goose pimples peppered his skin in response to the warmth of Joe’s breath and brush of his love’s lips against his oil slick skin. 
</p><p>
“I fear I will fall if I try to stand. Your hands are very good at what they do.” Nicky grinned when he felt Joe’s hands move to the lower portion of his back.
</p><p>
“Then, please, allow me to help you, habibi.” Joe murmured, kneading at Nicky’s low back. 
</p><p>
“Who am I to deny such help?” Nicky questioned but not moving, even as Joe stood and started the shower behind him.
</p><p>
“Are you alright now?” Joe asked, helping Nicky to stand and tightening his grip when his husband swayed upon standing.
</p><p>
“Better, just ready for a shower and some actual rest.” Nicky answered, slipping from his jeans and boxer briefs and with Joe’s help stepped into the shower with a sigh of relief.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't know why but I'm not really happy with how this turned out, my grammar kept bugging me every time I read through it. I have rewrote this like 2 times now - but, anyhow, I hope this was somewhat enjoyable to read! </p><p>As always thank you all for the kudos, subs, reviews, and bookmarks! 💕</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Ok, Who Had Natural Disasters on Their 2020 Bingo Card?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 27:<br/>Earthquake | <b>Extreme weather</b> | Power Outtage </p><p>“I understand your plight here, my Dear Heart.” Yusuf said, voice quiet and understanding. “But short of their God descending from the heavens to exclaim otherwise, all you are doing is buying time.”</p><p>Nicolò snapped his head up, eyes alight with something fantastical, as he quickly made his way to Yusuf and kissed him before blurting out “You are a genius!” </p><p>“Obviously…” Yusuf stated, but shuffled his feet and stared questioningly at Nicolò, “But remind me again of my genius for this particular moment.”</p><p>Nicolò just grinned and gave Yusuf a wink.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wrote a half brained plot on my break at work and then fleshed this out last night. This is 100% grade-A crack with gratuitous use of the lyrics from the Youngbloods song Get Together. It takes place at some unspecified point in the past because I don't know history like I probably should. xD</p><p>Also, for some reason I keep writing Nicky as a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, idk why, lol. </p><p>I had fun writing this one - and looking up the old ways of saying idiot - so hopefully you'll have as much fun reading any mistake let me know, I did a read through but no betaing. 💕</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You cannot be serious, Nicolò.”</p><p>
Said man looked up sheepishly to see the incredulous gaze of his husband, who was standing at the door to the room with his hands on his hips waiting for a reply. Nicolò cleared his throat and shrugged, “If it makes you feel better, after I said it, I immediately regretted it.”
</p><p>
Yusuf ran his hands through his hair and looked heavenward, praying silently that the man he loved for the last couple of hundred years wasn’t a total mooncalf. “It does not and you dying for these people will not end their drought.” 
</p><p>
“I know this but it will save the life of an innocent person.” Nicolò tried to reason, eyes pleading for understanding. “They were going to pick someone if no one gave themselves up and I just kept thinking, <em>what if they pick a child? Or, someone’s mother, their father.</em> and I just… I just couldn’t let that happen.” 
</p><p>
“Your damn guilty conscience will truly be the death of you one day.” Yusuf murmured with a sigh, he looked around the small room that Nicolò was currently being kept in, taking note of the grandiose bed linens and fluffy pillows as well as the lavish meal sitting untouched on the small table beside the rooms window. When he had returned home from the smithy to see a mass of people outside his home decorating the small cottage in flowers, herbs, and animal skins he’d been caught off guard and worried. When he’d questioned one of the villagers and found out his <em>cousin</em> had given himself up to appease the villages God and ease their hardships, he’d moved from worried to outright distraught. He wasn’t sure what he had expected to find when he’d arrived at the villages Alderman’s house demanding to see Nicolò but he sure wasn’t expecting his husband to be a willing occupant and not held under any duress.
</p><p>
“Yusuf?”
</p><p>
At the quiet call from Nicolò, Yusuf turned his attention back to the man, brows furrowed and heart anxious. “And what happens to these people when your <em>death</em> doesn’t cure the extreme heat that is eating at their crops and drying up their wells? What happens when a few months after they decide another sacrifice is needed to satiate their God?”
</p><p>
Nicolò swallowed and lowered his head, eyes searching the mended patches of fabric on his pants seemingly for the answer.
</p><p>
“I understand your plight here, my Dear Heart.” Yusuf said, voice quiet and understanding. “But short of their God descending from the heavens to exclaim otherwise, all you are doing is buying time.”
</p><p>
Nicolò snapped his head up, eyes alight with something fantastical, as he quickly made his way to Yusuf and kissed him before blurting out “You are a genius!” 
</p><p>
“Obviously…” Yusuf stated, but shuffled his feet and stared questioningly at Nicolò, “But remind me again of my genius for this particular moment.”
</p><p>
Nicolò just grinned and gave Yusuf a wink.
</p><p>
~Oo~o~oO~
</p><p>
The next morning saw Yusuf standing with the rest of the village in the town square, the villagers standing shoulder to shoulder and chattering wildly about the coming events. Events of which Yusuf wasn’t thrilled to see taking place but would support Nicolò and his decision, however hairbrained the plan seemed. He shoved his way forward to stand in front of the wooden stage in the town square that was decorated with what sparse foliage the villagers had been able to gather and other offerings such as tiny bits of food and wine. He crossed his arms as the village's Alderman stepped up onto the stage with his hand raised to silence the crowd.
</p><p>
“Good gentlefolk and ladies of Estee-Lauder, it has been a harsh and unforgiving season.” The Alderman stated, raising his hands to quiet the villagers when they shouted their agreements. “A season where our God has brought us fires that have burned our crops and heat that has dried up our wells. Because of this unrelenting harshness a brave soul has stepped forward to appease our God and send his mercy down to us.”
</p><p>
A raucous round of cheering rose from the crowd when a pair of guards stepped up onto the stage behind the Alderman with Nicolò - who appeared higher than a tree top - sandwiched between them with his face a bright cherry red and his eyes so wide they appeared almost black. 
</p><p>
“Hi, Yusuf!!! They gave me some really good wine!!” Nicolò hollered in merriment as he waved enthusiastically down to his husband who scrubbed at his face with his hands before waving back. 
</p><p>
“Good Sir Nicolò,” The Alderman spoke, voice booming as he turned and clapped the young man on the shoulder, “please know that you are loved and your sacrifice for our continued wealth and prosperity will not be soon forgot.” 
</p><p>
Nicolò giggled until he snorted, leaning heavily against the arms holding him up. “You have a very tiny head for such a big voice.”
</p><p>
The Alderman sighed and patted Nicolò on the cheek before he reached over to one of his guards and pulled the guard's sword from its sheath.
</p><p>
The Alderman pulled the sword back, “My God grant you a painless death and in your end replenish our lands.” With that the Alderman plunged the sword into Nicolò’s chest through his ribs and into his heart. 
</p><p>
A few gurgles bubbled out of Nicolò when the Alderman pulled the sword free, the guards slowly lowering him to the stage when his eyes began to droop. 
</p><p>
Yusuf refused to move as he watched the life slowly leave his love’s eyes, held his breath as Nicolò took his last and then started counting the seconds until they’d both take their first breath once more. He watched the Alderman hand off the sword to one of the guards and moved to speak soft words to Nicolò’s still body.
</p><p>
Yusuf kept his eyes on his husband even as the Alderman turned to address the crowd, his chest aching from lack of breath but he refused to breathe until Nicolò took that first breath of renewed life. Finally, when it felt as though his chest would burst, Nicolò heaved back to life, bowing in the guards grasp, eyes wide and unfocused as his mind and body reacquainted themselves with the living world.
</p><p>
The crowd around Yusuf inhaled suddenly and began to prattle on, their voices drowning out the shaken words of the Alderman who turned to see Nicolò moving to stand on his own, the guards backing away in shock. 
</p><p>
“Fair people of Estee-Lauder, I am your God! I have taken this vessel to speak a truth you must hear!” Nicolò shouted, his voice a booming echo throughout the town square. “I have burned your land, boiled your wells dry, sent the animals running! But know this, I do this all for a reason.”
</p><p>
Murmurs rushed through the crowd, speculations and gossip of what the reason could be that had Yusuf shaking his head and hiding his face beneath his hands. 
</p><p>
“You must learn to love another! You must understand <em>’You hold the key to love and fear all in your trembling hand. Just one key unlocks them both! It’s there at your command, come on, people now! Smile on your brother, everybody get together and try to love one another right now!</em>” The crowd turned to stare at one another unsure and confused but Nicolò continued on, “Once you have done this, your hardships shall end! These are the words of your God!”  Nicolò exclaimed before keeling over in a dramatic fashion. 
</p><p>
The crowd shouted in surprise at the revelation and turned to their Alderman unsure of what exactly was to be done. Yusuf, seeing Nicolò keeled over, hopped up onto the stage. “Let us return to our homes and gather what we can! We shall feast together as one family tonight! We shall heed our God's words and learn to cherish each other and replenish our lands!” 
</p><p>
The crowd jabbered in agreement and dispersed quickly back to their homes. Yusuf turned to the befuddled Alderman and the two guards staring shocked at the crumpled form of Nicolò. 
</p><p>
“If you so please, Alderman, Sir. I would like to lay my <em>cousin</em> to rest now.”
</p><p>
“O-of course!”
</p><p>
~Oo~o~oO~
</p><p>
Yusuf bid the guards a farewell as they unhooked the wagon from their horses and headed back towards the village to leave Yusuf to <em>bury his cousin</em> in peace. 
</p><p>
“I think that went about as well as expected, giving the circumstances.” Yusuf said as he pulled the sheet covering Nicolò down to expose the smiling face of his husband. 
</p><p>
“Should keep them going for a few generations.” Nicolò agreed and pulled at his bloody shirt. “Don’t suppose you were able to grab any of our belongings before leaving?”
</p><p>
“I’ll head back into town later to gather what we need but for now you’re going to help dig a hole and make a grave marker. We don’t need any nosey busy bodies realizing our farce.”
</p><p>
“I truly liked this village. I will miss Mary and her freshly baked bread and Linus and his strawberry jams!” Nicolò mourned, grasping Yusuf’s hand and jumping from the wagon. 
</p><p>
“There will be other villages with other breads and jams.” Yusuf consoled.
</p><p>
Nicolò pouted, “Sadly.” 
</p><p>
“Let us get to work, I want to be on the road by nightfall.”
</p><p>
Nicolò quickly gave Yusuf a peck on the cheek before taking his own shovel and heading towards an empty spot beneath a maple tree. “As you wish!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ahhh! 4 more chapters to go! I am so pumped that I will actually get this challenge completed and it's all thanks to each and every one of you guys for being so awesome and supportive!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Such Wow. Many Normal. Very Oops.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 28:<br/>Accidents | Hunting Season | <b>Mugged</b></p><p>Someone roughly grabbed the back of her coat and pulled, the air left her in a whoosh as her back slammed into the concrete of the sidewalk, her head bouncing harshly off the pavement. She groaned and blinked against the starbursts of light that popped across her vision to see her mysterious attacker towering over her, a small silver handgun pointed at her.  </p><p>
  <em>”Give me everything you have!”</em>
</p><p>Joe and Nile's supper run ends about as well as can be expected.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I had this whole big idea I wanted to write for this but Joe and Nile had other plans and thus, what follows is a mugging that ends with no one hurt but two people taking a dip in a park lake during mid-January.</p><p>I used Battersea Park as a backdrop to set the location but please know I have never physically been there outside of looking at pictures on google. Nor have I been to Star Burger but I did look at their menu online and holy crap it all looks and sounds so delicious!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Is there anything you’ve ever wanted to do? Anything you thought you never could because of the time involved or money?” Joe asked Nile one quiet evening while the two were strolling through Battersea Park after having picked up their takeaway from Star Burger - Nile had hated to admit it but she was sorely missing a good old fashioned greasy burger and overly salty fries.</p><p>
Nile shoved her chilled hands into the pockets of her coat, her breath a puff of white in the January air as she asked, “I thought we were supposed to fly under the radar? You know, be a ghost or whatever?”
</p>
<p>
“Oh, Nile.” Joe replied with a small smile and a shake of the head. At her dubious look and shrug of the shoulders, he chuckled.
</p>
<p>
“Seriously, what?” Nile asked, voice a tad bit annoyed.
</p>
<p>
The takeaway bags rustled when Joe moved to stand in front of Nile, forcing her to stop or run the risk of crashing into him. “Nile, dearest, you are very young with many years before you, you should not limit yourself out of fear of being caught. Cautious, yes. But, never forgo your dreams because of fear.”
</p>
<p>
Nile bit her lip and lowered her gaze to stare at the snow dusting the tops of her boots, she curled her toes to try and work the circulation back into the tiny digits, as if seeing her boots had suddenly made her realize just how cold her feet had become.
</p>
<p>
“You do not have to do anything if you so choose but you have to understand that continually educating yourself, continuing to grow your knowledge of the world around you? It’s how you’ll survive this constantly changing world. Andy, Nicky, and I? We aren’t this cool naturally, we work very hard to stay relevant.”
</p>
<p>
Nile looked up at that with a quiet laugh and smile, that sounded like something her Nana would have said to her. “Okay, grandpa.” 
</p>
<p>
Joe gasped and leaned back as if scandalized before he turned to once more stand beside Nile, his shoulder bumping against hers. “But, truly. What were your plans after you finished your military duties?”
</p>
<p>
“Well, Jay and Dizzy and I were going to travel, we-uh, we had this whole list of museums and touristy sites we were going to visit.” Nile explained with a fond look of remembrance as the two started forward again, the light from the lampposts above them causing the snow covered grass around them to sparkle like glitter, while also reflecting off the frozen lake off to the side of them, making the iced lake top glow in the dark of the late evening, the whole park reminded Nile of something something magical and fairytale-esque. “We had plans of attending college together too, Jay was going for her masters in linguistics, Dizzy had wanted to do some kind of engineering degree, and I was really hoping to be able to graduate with a degree in Art History.”
</p>
<p>
Joe hummed in interest, “A very good degree to have. I, myself, taught at Cambridge as a Professor of Art and Myth in Greek Antiquity once in the late 1930’s.”
</p>
<p>
“No way!” Nile shouted, astonished. “You’re a regular Indiana Jones then.”
</p>
<p>
“Indiana Jones, one of Nicky’s favorites.” Joe commented with a wink. “I remember taking Nicky to see those movies opening weekend. He thought Harrison Ford was a very dashing young fellow. We even dressed as Indiana Jones and his research assistant for a Halloween party one year.”
</p>
<p>
Nile fell a few steps behind Joe staring flabbergasted at his back before quickly racing to catch up, hollering. “Please tell me there are pictures!” 
</p>
<p>
“Andy has some stashed away and if you ask nicely she might even remember where.”
</p>
<p>
Nile blinked at the explanation, her next question a failed breath in her lungs as someone roughly grabbed the back of her coat and pulled, the air left her in a whoosh as her back slammed into the concrete of the sidewalk, her head bouncing harshly off the pavement. She groaned and blinked against the starbursts of light that popped across her vision to see her mysterious attacker towering over her, a small silver handgun pointed at her.  
</p>
<p>
<em>”Give me everything you have!”</em>
</p>
<p>
It took Nile a second to realize the command hadn’t been directed at her but instead to Joe, who, when she glanced his way, appeared to be sizing up how much of a threat the unknown man before them actually was. She went to move but was stopped by their attacker moving his finger from the trigger guard to the actual trigger. Not that getting shot would kill her but it would definitely put a damper on the evening.
</p>
<p>
“No funny business! I swear I’ll shoot. I-I just want your money and your food!”
</p>
<p>
Nile cocked her head at the crack in the man's voice and looked towards Joe once more, watching as he slowly held the takeaway bags out, their no-named mugger grabbed the bags and took a step back, the gun still trained on her. Nile shifted, the cold of the melted snow beneath her starting to saturate her jeans and make her legs itchy. 
</p>
<p>
“Money too!” 
</p>
<p>
“Or course.” Joe replied, making a show of reaching into his back pocket and withdrawing his wallet. He held the small leather billfold up for their attacker to see before he threw it off to the side, landing in the snow covered grass a few feet away from the edge of the frozen lake. 
</p>
<p>
“<em>Asshole!</em>” The unnamed man cursed as he stared from Joe, to Nile, and finally over to the wallet. He seemed to hesitate for just a second before backing away, keeping his eyes on Joe and Nile even as he knelt down to reach for the wallet, takeaway bags crinkling with his movements.
</p>
<p>
Nile made it to her knees before their attacker shouted at her to keep still, she rolled her eyes but complied, staying in a low crouch as the man stood with their food and wallet clutched tightly to his chest before turning tail and running.
</p>
<p>
“Well that was eventful.” Nile grumped, dusting her pants off as she made it to her feet, mourning the loss of her cheeseburger. She seriously hoped there was a McDonald’s on their trek back.
</p>
<p>
Joe, who had been watching their mugger run off, turned to her and sighed, “Are you alright?”
</p>
<p>
“I’m good except for, well…” Nile waved towards her snow soaked jeans with a grimace, the cold from the night air seeping into the wet clothes and sending a shiver through her. 
</p>
<p>
“Right.” Joe murmured, reaching forward to pat Nile on the shoulder. “Let’s get you home.”
</p>
<p>
A shout from off to the side of them had the two of them turning just in time to see a darkened silhouette disappear with a scream beneath the surface of the lake.
</p>
<p>
“Nile! Call 999, quickly!” Joe shouted, feet crunching in the snow as he took off towards the lake.
</p>
<p>
Nile nodded, quickly doing so as she trailed seconds behind Joe, watching with wide eyes as Joe shucked his winter coat off and had to bite back a shout when he slipped on the ice before he reached the small hole in the frozen lake top. 
</p>
<p>
“Are you crazy!” She cried out in shock just before Joe plunged into the freezing water. “Oh God, Nicky and Andy are gonna kill me.”
</p>
<p>
<em>”Ma’am are you in trouble?”</em> Nile blinked at the tiny voice over the cell phone, having completely missed the woman answering. 
</p>
<p>
“I’m fine but someone fell into the lake at Battersea Park and my <em>idiot</em> friend just jumped in after him!” 
</p>
<p>
<em>”Emergency services are on their way.”</em>
</p>
<p>
“Good, great-<em>fantastic!</em>” Nile exclaimed clicking the disconnect button kneeling carefully next to the small break in the ice, eyes straining to see into the darkened depths for any sign of Joe. She tried to remember the vague scenario of this very thing she was sure had been covered in the million different topics during basic training. She vaguely recalled something about people who fell never surfaced in the same place.
</p>
<p>
Nile looked up to see the vast expanse of the frozen lake top and groaned, “<em>craaaap</em>”
</p>
<p>
She wasn’t sure what she should do, move to look for Joe and risk falling into the lake herself or wait and pray Joe made it back to the opening before her. 
</p>
<p>
The decision was taken from her when she heard banging coming from somewhere off to her right. Nile quickly crawled forward, her gloveless hands shaking in the cold as she swept at the snow covered laketop to try and help discern where exactly the banging was originating from.  She let out a scream of surprise when one of her swipes revealed the distorted features of Joe’s face and his hand pounding against the ice. 
</p>
<p>
“Oh, crap….crapcrap, craap!” Nile brought her hands up and slammed down as hard as she could against the ice, crying out when pain shot up her arm from the action. She needed something to break the ice, she needed a, a… Nile looked around her before her eyes landed on a small silver object resting back by the cracked and jagged hole in the ice. 
</p>
<p>
“Hold on, Joe!” She shouted, enunciating each word in hopes the older man would be able to hear her words as she frantically crawled back to the object, realizing it was a silver handgun, the same one that had been pointed at her just moments before. Nile shifted to stare at the hole in the ice for just a second before a dull banging had her quickly moving forward.
</p>
<p>
“Joe, you need to back up!” She hollered as loudly as she could when she returned, hands waving for Joe to move out of the way. It took a split second for the form below her to move but as soon as Joe was out of the way she aimed and shot at the ice, wincing at the loud reverb from the gun. 
</p>
<p>
Nile looked down to see a bullet whole in the ice, cracks spreading out from the point of entry like a intricate spider web. She flipped the safety on and quickly brought the gun down with striking force, chipping away at the hole. The ice creaked as she struck it two more times before finally giving way and creating a much larger opening. Nile didn’t hesitate, she plunged her hand down into the freezing depths, fingers curling around water sodden cloth and pulling with all her might. Gasping and grunting as she hauled Joe up and onto the ice. Breathing heavily as she helped lift and pull the unconscious form Joe had been holding onto up beside him. 
</p>
<p>
She watched as Joe hacked and wheezed, the man shoving at the still form he’d risked himself to save, “B-breathing?”
</p>
<p>
Nile helped roll the man over and shook her head when she realized it was their attacker.She quickly pulled his coat open and settled her ear over his chest. When she didn’t hear any breath sounds she moved to check his pulse point, grateful when she felt the faint fluttering of a heartbeat. 
</p>
<p>
She moved to help the man breathe when the guy choked and vomited up water and other unpleasantness, his breath a harsh sound that rattled in his chest as he continued to rasp and cough his way back to consciousness.
</p>
<p>
“Nile, my coat, quickly.” 
</p>
<p>
At Joe’s soft words Nile rushed back to get Joe’s winter coat, wrapping it around the unknown man when she returned. 
</p>
<p>
The sound of sirens in the distance had both Nile and Joe turning to each other with knowing looks. They couldn’t be there when help arrived or there would be questions they’d be unable to answer.
</p>
<p>
Nile pulled Joe up, shucking off her own semi-dry coat and swaddling Joe's shaking form in the fabric. "We have to go."
</p>
<p>
Joe nodded teeth chattering as he let Nile lead him from the groaning man below them as red and blue lights began to illuminate the surrounding area.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I apologize that it seems like this just abruptly ends but I kept rewriting and rewriting the scene that was supposed to follow so I figured instead of getting hung up in it to just end here. </p><p>As always thank you everyone for your continued support! 💕</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. I think I need a doctor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 29:<br/>Intubation | <b>Emergency Room</b> | Reluctant Bedrest</p><p>Andy grabbed the side rail of the gurney, mouth agape when she realized just who was resting underneath the caked blood, cervical collar, and oxygen mask on the gurney. “Book?” Andy whispered stunned, she snapped her head towards Nile, voice deep with anger as she demanded to know what happened.</p><p>“We found him in a ditch.” Nile explained, grabbing Andy by the shoulder as the other EMT and nurse shoved Booker into one of the empty trauma rooms. She held strong as Andy tried to pull away. Nile shook her head, “Andy, you should know... he’s tore up in a bad way and…”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“He’s not…” Nile swallowed thickly and blinked against the tears she could feel forming, “He’s not healing, Andy.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>What follows is an unusually weird mix of medical drama and humor with a little dash of wtf thrown in for flavor. Uhm, mentions of blood and some gore-kind of-in this one so just a heads up. Also I gave this a once over this morning so if you see any mistakes please let me know!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You do make a <em>very fine</em> ER Nurse, dear.”</p><p>
Andy hunched over her COW-<em>it’s a computer on wheels, Andy, not an actual farm animal!</em>, her shoulders shaking from silent laughter.
</p><p>
Nile snorted from beside Andy when she saw Joe’s eyes widen at the comment, his gaze sweeping to look down at the dark green scrubs he was wearing and the white of his crocs peeking out from the bottom of his pants. Joe looked back up when he felt hands grip the ends of the stethoscope around his neck to see Nicky grinning like a dork down at him. 
</p><p>
Joe gripped Nicky’s hands in his with a smile of his own, “And you do so make a dashing Doctor, love.”
</p><p>
“Please tell me, they’re not making bedroom eyes with one another. “ Andy murmured from the safety of her keyboard.
</p><p>
“Define bedroom eyes, because all I see right now, honest to God, is literal hearts floating around their heads while Disney music plays in the background.” Nile explained, resting her elbow on Andy’s hunched back, her head nestled in the palm of her hand. 
</p><p>
“If anyone would be a disney couple, it’d be those two.”Andy said with a sigh, shrugging Nile’s arm off as she righted herself and chucked a pen at the two love birds. “Hey, Cinderella! Prince Charming!” 
</p><p>
“So mean, Andromache.” Nicky pouted, hands swiping the pen from the air and placing it in his coat pocket. 
</p><p>
“Save the role playing for the bedroom, we have a job to do.” Andy pushed her COW down the hall towards the nurses station situated in the middle of the emergency department. 
</p><p>
Nile bounced on the balls of her feet with a smile, “Well, I think it’s sweet.” 
</p><p>
“Thank you, Nile.” Joe responded with a wink just as a red haired man popped around the door to the ambulance bay waving at the small group.
</p><p>
“Hey Newbie, let’s go, we got a call!” 
</p><p>
Nile blinked and looked down at her polo and cargo pants as it dawned on her she was the <em>newbie</em>, “Oh, shit, right, that’s me! Gotta go.”
</p><p>
Joe and Nicky watched Nile race off, trailing behind the red head to the ambulance bay. The younger girl practically skipping through the sliding glass doors. Joe waved at her when Nile turned around to give them a thumbs up before disappearing around a corner. 
</p><p>
Nicky shoved his hands in his pocket and rocked on his feet, “Remember when we were that excited about working an undercover mission?”
</p><p>
“Hmmm, Hampton Court in the 1540’s, I think? By far my favorite.” Joe recalled, mind wandering back to the few years they had spent at court under King Henry the VIII procuring the palace for the safe arrival of his third wife's child. “Henry was a proper ass, his dick was nicely bedazzled though.”
</p><p>
Nicky snorted, “Lord help the person who created codpieces, so impractical and very telling. It made no sense, it was so improper at the time to even talk about genitalia but then along comes some royal ass with a twelve inch gem encrusted dick cloth and suddenly everyone and their cousin has to outdo how bejeweled their penis was.”
</p><p>
“Nile would call it <em>Big Dick Energy</em>.” Nicky side eyed Joe at the comment, rolling his eyes when his husband smiled widely back at him. “Do not worry, my heart, no one's cock was as beautifully wrapped as yours.”
</p><p>
Nicky blushed and cleared his throat, eyes finding a darkened spot on the floor, he took a breath and went to speak, stopped, and cleared his throat again before finally settling on, “His daughter was a delight though, a very lively little thing.” 
</p><p>
Joe nodded his head in agreement thinking back to the rambunctious little curly haired blonde that ran amuck during the celebration of her brother’s birth wanting to know everything about everything. The child's curious mind was relentless and most likely seen as improper for a young maiden of the time, but a delight to Joe and Nicky who told her all about the wonders of the world outside the palace and her homestead. It was a shame it took so long for King Henry to reconcile with both his daughters. 
</p><p>
Joe was pulled from his thoughts when he felt Nicky shift beside him. He turned to see Nicky looking around the ER department, unsure.
</p><p>
“Do you think medicine in this day and age is the same as it was in the 80’s?” Nicky wondered aloud, his focus finally landing on Joe.
</p><p>
<em>“Doctor Smith, I could use some help in here!” </em>  
</p><p>
Nicky cringed at Andy’s yell from behind them. 
</p><p>
“Guess we shall find out.” Joe murmured, quickly shooing Nicky towards the Urgent Care section of the ER.  
</p><p>
O~oO~o~Oo~O
</p><p>
Andy tapped angrily at the keyboard, her eyes narrowed at the cursor which blinked mockingly at her. “Come on you piece of crap technology!”
</p><p>
When her continued pecking resulted in nothing but the cursor turning into a buffering icon, Andy bit on her finger and screamed quietly in frustration. How was she meant to chart on any of the patients in this department when the stupid program meant to run the charting system ran as if two cavemen were powering the whole damned thing! 
</p><p>
“Meditech is such trash technology isn’t it?”
</p><p>
Andy swung around to see another ER nurse standing behind her with a knowing look, “But, there’s a trick, you just have to be gentle with it. Watch.”
</p><p>
The woman turned Andy’s chair back around and reached over her to gently pat the screen before giving it one good whack, the screen blacked out for a second before flaring back to life and loading the charting program. 
</p><p>
“See,” The woman said with a brilliant smile and shrug, “gentle.” 
</p><p>
Andy huffed a breath that could have been mistaken for a laugh and nodded her head in thanks.
</p><p>
“If it gives you any more trouble let me know, be glad to help.” 
</p><p>
“Andy!” 
</p><p>
At the shout, Andy turned from the overly bright smile of the nurse to see Nile, her cargo shirt splotched in red and hands stained with the same darkened maroon, pushing a loaded gurney through the automatic doors. Andy swore and stood, the nurse behind her moving just as quickly to meet the gurney as they passed the nurses station. 
</p><p>
Andy grabbed the side rail of the gurney, mouth agape when she realized just who was resting underneath the caked blood, cervical collar, and oxygen mask on the gurney. “Book?” Andy whispered stunned, she snapped her head towards Nile, voice deep with anger as she demanded to know what happened.
</p><p>
“We found him in a ditch.” Nile explained, grabbing Andy by the shoulder as the other EMT and nurse shoved Booker into one of the empty trauma rooms. She held strong as Andy tried to pull away. Nile shook her head, “Andy, you should know... he’s tore up in a bad way and…”
</p><p>
“And?”
</p><p>
“He’s not…” Nile swallowed thickly and blinked against the tears she could feel forming, “He’s not healing, Andy.”
</p><p>
Andy scoffed at that, “Bullshit.” She shoved Nile out of the way and headed into the trauma room even as the other nurse called for the doctor. Andy made her way to the gurney watching as the EMT and Nurse hefted the backboard Booker was resting on up and settled him from the gurney to the hospital bed. She watched on as the nurse quickly moved to the cabinets of the room rummaging through and grabbing various packages and baggies.
</p><p>
Everything seemed to slow around her, her own breath a roaring wave in her burning ears, the smell of bleach and copper embedded itself into her memory, the stark white of the sheets on the bed soaking up the red of Bookers blood from unknown injuries and mocking her as she took an unknowing step back from the scene playing out in overly saturated colors before her. She could hear the muffled voice of Nile as her traitorous feet stepped back again, her eyes never leaving the form on the bed as Doctors and nurses rushed past her into the room.
</p><p>
<em>”C’mon Book. You’re still in this shitty game with me.” </em>
</p><p>
She thought she heard Joe and Nicky before someone was pulling at her, she ripped her arm free from whoever was pulling at her just as the flatline resounded in the room before her. Andy shot forward shoving at the people in her way till she was beside Booker. She reached for his lax hand and gripped it tightly in her own shaking one. Andy blinked her eyes clear, free hand coming up to brush at the soaked bangs that clung to Booker’s forehead. A thousand different apologies waiting to be said but never making it past her lips. 
</p><p>
This was her fault, this was her doing. A hundred years had been too long for Booker and his self destructive ways. The man was nothing if not determined and it had seemed he may have finally found what he had been chasing for so long. Andy grasped his hand tighter, willing what strength she had to help Booker find his way back. That this wouldn’t be the end. That her favorite asshole would leave this damnable planet before her was unthinkable. 
</p><p>
Seconds turned into moments that stretched into a seeming eternity. There were hands at her shoulders once more, trying to soothe and comfort but doing nothing but distracting her. She shrugged the hands off and watched, waiting for the gasp of life that would herald Booker back into the land of the living. 
</p><p>
Nothing.
</p><p>
Andy let Booker’s hand drop and slammed her fist into his chest with a shout. All at once hands clamped around her a someone shouted, the muted voice barely registering as she slammed her hand into Booker’s chest once more, the hands clamped around her wrenched her backwards, she hissed and pulled at the grip but more hands joined and pulled her away from the still man on the hospital bed. She screamed as she was tugged from the room, Bookers form disappearing behind a swath of white and blue. She wrenched herself free from the hands confining her and whirled ready for a fight, only to see Joe and Nile standing before her awkwardly holding their hands up, placating her vicious anger. 
</p><p>
Andy hesitated for just a moment before her hands dropped to her side along with her gaze, a sob broke past her trembling lips. Booker held a special place in her heart, he was the first person who understood what it was like to lose the love of your life, he was the lifeline that reminded her that Quynh was out there, crazed but alive, her buoy in this shitty world that seemed determined to drown. 
</p><p>
“Andy,” Joe whispered, unsure, “He…”
</p><p>
“Don’t.” She pleaded, “Just don’t, not right now.”
</p><p>
O~oO~o~Oo~O
</p><p>
The late night air was a welcome relief to her overheated skin. Andy took a deep breath and leaned back against the wooden slats of the bench outside the hospital entrance. Her focus on the gray tinge of the sky above, the darkened clouds signaling the oncoming rain that seemed an appropriate bookend to this craptastic day.
</p><p>
“Andy?”
</p><p>
She ignored the quiet call and kept her attention on the sky above.
</p><p>
“Andromache, please hear me.”
</p><p>
She rubbed her face at Joe’s words and shook her head. She couldn’t. If she allowed herself to think beyond anything other than the simpleness of the sky above it would just make everything real.
</p><p>
“If you will not listen to me, maybe you’ll listen to him?”
</p><p>
She turned as someone cleared their throat, her eyes drinking in the scruffy beard and scraggly haired man dressed in periwinkle scrubs standing off to the side of Joe. Andy smiled tearfully and she stood as Booker made his way forward, a wince maring his features when he stepped wrong.
</p><p>
“You were dead.”
</p><p>
“Only a little bit. There were drugs in my system, slowed everything down, took a little longer to get everything jump started again.” Booker took a deep breath and reached out to curl his fingers around Andy’s trembling hand. “We need to talk.”
</p><p>
“Book…”
</p><p>
“We need to talk about Quynh.”
</p><p>
Andy searched Booker’s eyes for some kind of clue as to why he would bring up her former lover’s name.
</p><p>
“She’s out and she’s looking for you.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always thank you everyone for continuing to follow this series of one shots, it has been fun and I am sad to see that it's almost over with, just two more chapters to go!</p><p>I have also started on a Werewolf!Nicky AU that I am hoping to be able to post sometime in the next few days/sometimes by the end of the week if everything life-wise goes well.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Now Where Did That Come From</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 30:<br/><strong>Wound Reveal</strong> | <strong>Ignoring an injury</strong> | Internal Organ Injury</p>
<p>“Nico!”</p>
<p>At the call, Nicolò turned and swerved, hissing when the tip of a rapier tore through the linen of his shirt and nicked the skin beneath, staining the rough edges of the white cloth a ruddy color. He back peddled a few steps and brought his broadsword up once more to block another strike and push back against the smaller blade. He heaved his weight into the balls of his feet and struck his adversary true; the blade of his sword sliding easily through the tender flesh of the bandit, stilling the man’s hand and sending the rapier to grass below, the sword landing with a dull thunk.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh gosh, second to last chapter! *squeals*</p>
<p>This takes place a few hundred years after the boys have become the awesome immortal warrior husbands we know and love. No character death in this chapter, because I can and never will be able to write it...shame on me, lol. </p>
<p>I gave this a once over but not much else, let me know of any mistakes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nicolò dodged, body swiftly rounding and bringing his broadsword up to parry a strike meant to take his head. He brought his leg up and kicked his adversary in the groin, knocking the man back and to the ground with a yell.</p>
<p>
“Nico!”
</p>
<p>
At the call, Nicolò turned and swerved, hissing when the tip of a rapier tore through the linen of his shirt and nicked the skin beneath, staining the rough edges of the white cloth a ruddy color. He back peddled a few steps and brought his broadsword up once more to block another strike and pushback against the smaller blade. He heaved his weight into the balls of his feet and struck his adversary true; the blade of his sword sliding easily through the tender flesh of the bandit, stilling the man’s hand and sending the rapier to grass below, the sword landing with a dull thunk. 
</p>
<p>
Nicolò pulled his sword free, chest heaving, when a cry of surprise had him turning to see Yusuf slice through the neck of another bandit; the poor bastard falling to his knees grasping at his bleeding throat before falling silent to the bloodied ground at his husband's feet. 
</p>
<p>
“So much for a quiet morning.” Yusuf commented, flicking his wrist quickly to fling the blood from his scimitar before sighing. “I just oiled it as well, shame.” 
</p>
<p>
Nicolò made a noise of acknowledgement, hand coming up to poke at the bloodied rip in the fabric of his shirt with a frown. The wound had healed but the skin was still a deep red and very warm beneath his fingers. An odd occurrence, he noted while he prodded the skin curiously, his forehead wrinkling when a particularly deep poke had him gasping in pain. 
</p>
<p>
“Nico?” A gentle touch to his hand had him looking up to see Yusuf, eyes bright with worry, staring at him. “Are you alright, my love?”
</p>
<p>
He could hear the underlying concern in his husband's voice, he didn’t want to bother Yusuf with something as trivial as a healed wound that was still achy - which, who was to say the wound hadn’t been deep enough that it was still healing beneath the already closed skin? He gently turned his hand to grasp Yusuf’s own and lightly tapped his forehead against Yusuf’s, “Fine, dear heart. Already healed over.” 
</p>
<p>
Yusuf nodded, turning to assess the mess around them. Their campsite was all but destroyed by the bandits in their haste to do away with them. Their belongings scattered about, linens ripped and caught in tree limbs, their bedrolls torn and stained from mud and gore, the contents of their packs - food and other such necessities - trampled and most likely inedible and unuseable. Yusuf sighed, “We should gather what’s salvageable and continue on. We’re still a few days trek from Andromache and Quynh’s location.”
</p>
<p>
Nicolò <em>hmm’d</em> in agreement, eyes scanning their small campsite before blinking in bewilderment, “Yusuf, where have the horses gone?”
</p>
<p>
“Sonouva…” Yusuf spun to where they had kept their horses tied and deflated when he noticed the two mares had in fact departed. Whether under their own volition or from a bandit they had missed in the fray of everything, he was unsure  “It seems we shall be walking for the foreseeable future.”
</p>
<p>
“It is a beautiful morning. A leisurely stroll sounds <em>magnifico</em>.” Nicolò murmured leaning up to kiss the taller man softly on the nose with a grin. 
</p>
<p>
Yusuf groaned, “You are incorrigible.” 
</p>
<p>
“You love it.” Nicolò replied, capturing Yusuf’s lips for a quick kiss before pulling away and turning to gather what items could be saved, his smile widening when he heard a quiet curse from behind him. 
</p>
<p>
O~oO~o~Oo~O
</p>
<p>
The midday sun had risen high above them, the celestial beasts golden rays gleaming down into the forest surrounding them, wrapping animals and trees alike in its passionate embrace, leaving everything drenched in a golden heat. It’s why Nicolò blinked in confusion when a chill shivered through him even as he wiped beads of sweat from his flushed face. 
</p>
<p>
He shook his head, unsure. The sun had barely crested the horizon when the bandits had attacked their small camp and that had been but hours ago; and, yet, his body felt as though it had been on the road for days with no rest. His muscles had started to cramp a mile or so back and now he was breathing as though he had run for the previous hours instead of walked. Nicolò looked up to see that he had even started to trail a few feet behind Yusuf. 
</p>
<p>
Nicolò had moved to adjust the weight of his pack, hoping that it would help ease the dull pain, only to end up whimpering and grasping at the bloodied tear in his shirt. His arm sharply stinging from the action. 
</p>
<p>
“Cuore mio?” Nicolò called out quietly, his heart stuttering on his next step and causing him to falter and cough harshly at the sensation. He could hear Yusuf turn in the dirt - hear shoes scuffing the ground and kicking errant pebbles - and in the glaring brightness and heat of the sun he could see Yusuf’s beautiful face - his love’s eyes wide and anxious - before everything became too intense; the pain in his arm, the racing of his heart, the vivid colors of the woods around him all converged to overwhelm his senses and send him crashing into blessed darkness. 
</p>
<p>
O~oO~o~Oo~O
</p>
<p>
Yusuf rushed forward, arms barely wrapping around Nicolò in time to soften their unceremonious fall. He grunted when his knees hit the packed dirt path, Nicolò’s head lolling on his shoulder before resting in the crook of his neck, his love’s breath hot against his skin. 
</p>
<p>
“Nicolò, destati.” He called out, shifting to bring his hand up to brush against frizzy stray hair that had plastered itself against Nicolò’s forehead, frowning when he felt just how warm and sweaty his husband was. The air around them was humid but not to the point that it should cause such exhaustion in someone.
</p>
<p>
“Nicolò, hayati, you must awaken.” Yusuf murmured, adjusting his grip so Nicolò was resting comfortably in the crook of his arm, taking note of the ashen hue of his husband’s skin that made the bright pink flush of the man’s cheeks stand out in worrying contrast. 
</p>
<p>
“Nico?” He questioned, watching in concern when Nicolò’s lashes fluttered before blinking open to reveal a set of hazy green eyes, red rimmed, and pinched in pain. “There you are.” He whispered, brushing stray hairs from Nicolò’s forehead with his free hand and tucking them behind his love’s ear.
</p>
<p>
“Is it morning already?” Nicolò queried, moving to separate himself from the warm embrace of Yusuf only to hiss and clutch at his arm, curling into himself with a groan. 
</p>
<p>
“Your arm?” Yusuf guessed and swallowed roughly at Nicolò’s terse nod. “We need to get off the path, there should be a stream not far from here, we will rest there. Up you get.” 
</p>
<p>
Yusuf felt his heart race as he helped Nicolò rise to his feet, watching as his husband's eyes wandered about, seemingly unable to focus on any one thing in particular. Something horrid knotted itself in his stomach when he had to quickly tighten his grip on Nicolò’s bicep to steady the man when his first step forward faltered and they almost went down once more. 
</p>
<p>
“This way.” Yusuf guided, hands strong even when it seemed as if his whole body was shaking. “There you go, hayati. One step at a time.”
</p>
<p>
“Sic-<em>nnng</em>” Was all the warning Yusuf received before he was moving his arm across Nicolò’s chest to support him while he retched and gagged onto the ground before them. The last heave so strong the Nicolò was almost doubled forward, the bun his long reddish hued hair had been tied in bobbing as the leather tie loosened from his jerky movements. 
</p>
<p>
Yusuf wrinkled his nose as the sour smell of sickness drifted upwards, his eyes watering from the murmured apologies tumbling whisper-quiet from Nicolò, his hand unknowingly rubbing circles of comfort across the expanse of his love’s back, softly shushing when Nicolò tried to apologize once more. 
</p>
<p>
A moment passed, the harsh breathing from Nicolò the only measurement for how long the two of them stood there before Nicolò attempted to stand upright, Yusuf moving to help guide a shaking arm around his shoulder to support Nicolò as the two stumbled forward. 
</p>
<p>
The trek to the burbling stream took longer than Yusuf would have liked and by the time they arrived and he helped Nicolò to rest on the ground, propped up against the trunk of large maple tree situated along the bank of the stream, the sun had drifted further in the sky, the heat of midday giving way to the cooler temperatures of early evening. 
</p>
<p>
Nicolò was already drifting off, a cough wracking his lethargic body while Yusuf worked to rip the ruined sleeve off of Nicolò’s shirt, exposing a tiny cluster of blood spots - almost like pinpricks - framing a much larger purple ring of skin with a deep indigo center. Yusuf had heard of this before and only seen such a disease a few times in his long life, the infected usually never survived, the poison wreaking havoc inside the person’s body to the point no medicinal herbs could help stop the spread. 
</p>
<p>
“Why are you not healing?” Yusuf demanded, his mind racing just as rabbit fast as his heart. “Nico!” He hollered, lightly slapping at Nicolò’s overly flushed cheek. Cursing when his actions did nothing but cause Nicolò’s brows to furrow and a low keening whimper to slip past the man’s chapped lips. 
</p>
<p>
Yusuf ran a trembling hand through his curls and gazed out over the cooling waters of the stream. He needed to cool Nicolò down, needed to get a fire going and water boiling, needed to gather herbs to make teas and decoctions to help with infection and fever, but he didn’t want to leave - refused to leave - Nicolò alone, not in his current vulnerable state. 
</p>
<p>
Another congested cough and whimper stole the choice from him though. Yusuf took off his silver studded cotehardie and laid it over Nicolò to help keep him warm and help keep the fever from worsening. He stood and nodded, reassuring himself that he was making the right choice before leaving.
</p>
<p>
O~oO~o~Oo~O
</p>
<p>
Nicolò groaned and shoved against the overbearing warmth, grimacing when the movement pulled at his aching muscles. He called out for Yusuf, unsure; but, when there was no reply to his call, forced his eyes open even though it felt as though his lashes were made of lead. He blinked to try and clear the blurry world around him, turning when he heard the crackling of a fire, to see low flames burning in a ring of small stones just a few feet in front of him. 
</p>
<p>
He called out once more to Yusuf, voice cracking when his chest constricted and sent him into a coughing fit. He hacked and wheezed, eyes still seeking out the comforting form of his husband. His mind trying to work through what had transpired to leave him alone at camp, sore and aching. He remembered waking to the sound of their horse’s neighing and then a sudden killing blow that he had rolled to miss. He faintly recalled the sword fight, faint flashes of strikes and the sound of clashing, the overly loud call of his name tumbling worriedly from Yusuf...and, then, nothing. Nothing but pain, sickness, and heat. 
</p>
<p>
Had Yusuf chased after the bandits? Had his husband expected him to follow? Or, what if the bandits had absconded with Yusuf while he had been left as fodder? 
</p>
<p>
Nicolò made to stand only to fall back against the tree trunk when the world tilted and swayed under him. He stood there for a moment to catch his breath before shoving away from the rough bark. He took one step forward only to have the world around him shift, the early evening sky quickly spiraling into a midnight black and pulling his consciousness asunder, the black greedily seizing him and dragging him down into a sweet nothingness. 
</p>
<p>
O~oO~o~Oo~O
</p>
<p>
Yusuf hadn’t expected to take long to gather herbs but the goldenseal he needed for its anti-inflammatory purposes had been harder to come by than he thought. By the time the stream and the small fire he’d started were in his sights, the sun had started it’s nightly descent, the pinks and oranges of the late evening shining onto the trees and giving them an almost ethereal appearance.
</p>
<p>
He shouted in surprise when he arrived back at camp to the sight of Nicolò’s crumpled form inches from the fire, one hand splayed out in front of him and his other hand outstretched underneath his head, fingertips almost brushing the edge of the rocks surrounding the fire.
</p>
<p>
“Foolish man.” He whispered to himself, kneeling and gently rolling Nicolò onto his back to assess any new wounds that might have appeared in his absence; but, blessedly, there were none.
</p>
<p>
He worked quickly grabbing Nicolò’s leather pack and shoving it beneath the man’s head and once more draping his cotehardie over his love’s prone form before setting about to boil water for the honeysuckle compact and goldenseal decoction. 
</p>
<p>
He worked mindlessly, grinding rhizomes and roots and adding stips of linen to the boiled honeysuckle water before placing the warmed cloth onto the angry looking skin of Nicolò’s arm. When the goldenseal was ready he gently moved Nicolò to lean against his chest, the younger man's head resting against his collarbone, and brought the tin cup up to Nicolò’s lips and slowly poured the bitter liquid into the mans mouth, rubbing at Nicolò’s adam’s apple to help make sure he swallowed every drop. 
</p>
<p>
After, he lay Nicolò back down and curled up behind him, arms wrapping tightly around the shivering form, the flat of his hand coming to rest against his husband’s chest. The lullaby he could still remember his mother singing to him as babe drifted quietly from him till he felt his lids droop and sleep overtake him. 
</p>
<p>
O~oO~o~Oo~
</p>
<p>
Something smacked into him, harsh and unyielding. Yusuf blinked himself awake just in time to see a hand flailing towards his face once more. He quickly reached up to catch the limb as he rolled to his knees. He grasped Nicolò’s other hand as another bout of jerky uncoordinated movements had the man gurgling, a wet troubling sound echoing from Nicolò’s throat. 
</p>
<p>
“Nico, hayati, it is alright. I am here.” Yusuf murmured, eyes watering from the overwhelming sense of helplessness that he felt. He knew the herbs had been a long shot but deep within his heart he had been hopeful; had to believe that Nicolò’s time had yet to come. 
</p>
<p>
Yusuf could do nothing but help his dearest ride out the tremors, even as the gurgling wet sounds turned into tiny gasps, Nicolò seeming to fight for each breath, his arms jerking in Yusuf’s grasp, green eyes wild and unfocused before, with one last grand gasp of air, his body stilled; muscles relaxing and gaze staring upwards to the star-filled night sky above. 
</p>
<p>
“No. No, no-no-<em>nono</em>.” Yusuf pulled Nicolò’s lax body up and crushed him against his chest, hands coming up to grasp at the back of his love’s head, his body rocking them back and forth. “Please, <em>please, Nicolò.</em> I can’t live without you, you’re everything to me.”
</p>
<p>
Yusuf sobbed, resting his head against his love’s shoulder, “You are the love of my life. The gods above would not be so cruel as to steal you from me. Please, hayati, <em>please</em>. You must come back, do not leave me here to continue on without you.”
</p>
<p>
Seconds stretched into minutes and still the body in his grasp remained motionless, unchanged. Yusuf prayed, prayed to any God that would hear his plea and deem him a man worthy of their time. Prayed for Nicolò’s return, prayed for their love to have a chance to continue on, to grow and blossom.
</p>
<p>
Only when his voice had started to crack, his throat aching and eyes stinging from tears, did Nicolò’s body shake beneath his touch. The once still body jerking as air forced itself into his lungs, body refuting the death that had been thrust upon it.
</p>
<p>
Yusuf laughed - a strained and fatigued sound - and sent a silent <em>thank you</em> to whoever had answered his prayer before he ran his hands over Nicolò’s heaving form, checking to make sure his love had returned umarred and whole. 
</p>
<p>
“Sono qui.” Nicolò whispered, hands reaching up to grasp at Yusuf’s biceps, grip weak. “Sono qui, amore mio.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For reference:<br/><a href="https://www.maskworld.com/english/products/costumes/costume-component-parts--250/surcoats-tabards--2511/cotehardie-with-removable-sleeves--MR-100492"> Yusuf's cotehardie </a><br/><a href="https://www.medievalcollectibles.com/product/velveteen-nobles-doublet/?attribute_pa_color=navy-blue&amp;attribute_pa_size=x-large&amp;matchtype=&amp;keyword=&amp;gclid=Cj0KCQiA0-6ABhDMARIsAFVdQv-hSa3LUHnphszWQ3ZGq_MxdirOoI9Pl8-3bguBr1B5C-p-wR17aG0aAgb3EALw_wcB"> Nicolò's outfit </a></p>
<p>Hayati: My life<br/>Magnifico: Magnificent<br/>Cuore Mio:My Heart<br/>Sono Qui: I'm here<br/>Amore Mio: My Love</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As always thank you all for your continued support! I will post the last chapter in the next week or so because I want to work on the next chapter of my Nicky werewolf AU.</p>
<p>You all are awesome and rock times a thousand!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Today's Special, Torture</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whumptober Day 31:<br/>Experiment | Whipped |<strong> Left for Dead</strong></p><p>The action clear, they were leaving Nicolò to rot in the heat of the desert sun. </p><p>“You cannot!” Yusuf shouted, voice desperate and raw. They couldn’t leave Nicolò, the poor man would be lost in the ever changing landscape of the desert. He tugged against the rough hemp rope bound tightly around his wrists, ignoring how it sloughed his skin with every vicious jerk. He ignored the bite of the sword against his throat and pleaded, “Even as a deadman you can still garner a ransom for him!”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh Gosh can you believe it's Halloween already. *Dies*</p><p>But guys this is it! 43k+ words later and this is the last chapter, the last prompt, the end, finito, finesse! I did it, suuuuuuuper late but wahooo! </p><p>Anyways, for those that want to see what I originaly intended for this prompt I started a new chaptered story called Yesterday, I was Drowning (Today, I'm home) that grew too big to be a one shot so I posted it as it own thing. </p><p>Also, Also, I just really wanted to write feral!nicky because of reasons, lol</p><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Nicolò!” The cry of his love’s name tore something from deep within him, the sight of his beloved falling with a silent breath to the sands of the desert to be dragged across the harsh sands under the burning midday sun - a physical ache he couldn’t stand. He had known it was coming, had seen the warning signs hours ago, but still was shocked when it happened.</p><p>
His Nicolò was not built for the intense summer heat of the Saharan desert. 
</p><p>
He had watched the glassy distance build slowly across Nicolò’s features and their surroundings, the scrunched confusion that marred his husband’s forehead and the half hearted tugs against the rope binding Nicolò to the pommel of the horse he was trailing behind. He swallowed roughly, a quiet plea brushing past his lips, begging Nicolò to hang on even as his husband talked to ghosts and begged forgiveness for transgressions already long forgotten. The low keening moaning that slipped free from Nicolò, the aching sound reminiscent of a wounded animal seeking comfort, had an awful hopeless feeling wrapping tight around his chest and squeezing the breath from his lungs. He hated that he couldn’t offer any comfort outside quiet assurances and soft looks.
</p><p>
Yusuf watched Nicolò stumble once-<em>twice</em> and then fall, body dragged a short distance before a loud whistle broke through the small caravan, stilling the horses. Yusuf looked up from his husband’s still form to see the leader of their group dismount and tower over the still form of Nicolò.
</p><p>
Something rough and guttural in a language Yusuf didn’t recall ever hearing before was shouted to the group and had their captors laughing and guffawing. Yusuf had to bite down his anger, knowing it would do no good in the grand scheme of things; but, when their gracious host reared back and kicked Nicolò so harshly his husband rolled he couldn’t help the shout of rage that tore from him. 
</p><p>
He reared back when the leader turned on him, sword pointed menacingly at his adam’s apple. Another deep command tumbled from the leader and the rope that had attached Nicolò to the horse’s pommel was tossed to the ground.
</p><p>
The action clear, they were leaving Nicolò to rot in the heat of the desert sun. 
</p><p>
“You cannot!” Yusuf shouted, voice desperate and raw. They couldn’t leave Nicolò, the poor man would be lost in the ever changing landscape of the desert. He tugged against the rough hemp rope bound tightly around his wrists, ignoring how it sloughed his skin with every vicious jerk. He ignored the bite of the sword against his throat and pleaded, “Even as a deadman you can still garner a ransom for him!” 
</p><p>
The leader huffed a laugh and sheathed his sword, returning to his horse and mounting, the man clicked his tongue and started their small caravan back up. 
</p><p>
Yusuf bit back a curse and kicked sand up towards the man, hissing and screaming expletives, defiant even as the horse he was attached to started forward, pulling him along. He dug his feet into the sand and tried to pull against the tug of the rope that bound him. “Nicolò! Nicolò, you must awaken! Nicolò!”
</p><p>
Yusuf screamed, his heart tearing at the sight of his husband laying so still and <em>so</em> painfully unaware that he was being left for vittals to the scavenging animals that called the harsh sands home. 
</p><p>
Yusuf jerked against his bounds in one more act of disobedience before something slammed into the back of his head.
</p><p>
O~oO~o~Oo~O
</p><p>
The sound of frightened chattel greeted Yusuf upon waking. He blinked against the harsh glare of the sun rays to see horses kicking up sand in distress, the anguished shrieks of his captors startling the poor mares.
</p><p>
A gargled death throe framed by a vicious war cry had Yusuf turning in time to see one of his captors impaled by a scimitar, the sword twisted in the man's chest before being pulled free, the dead man landing a few yards from him. He stared in awe as the sword bearer - whose identity was obscured by a headscarf wrapped tight around his face - flicked his wrist to rid the weapon of blood before swinging around and landing a killing blow to another enemy that had tried for a sneak attack.
</p><p>
Yusuf gave a shout of warning to the man from his position on the ground.
</p><p>
The man looked towards Yusuf - his bright emerald eyes locking on his -and somersaulted forward, landing on his knees and turning to slash at the two captors that had tried to come at the poor man from both sides, blood staining the sand muddy red, pools of red shining almost black in the midday sun as blood ran from the deadmen and gathered. 
</p><p>
A throaty threat echoed from behind Yusuf, the cold bite of metal resting against the soft skin of his neck, the warning clear if his savior didn’t relinquish his weapon, Yusuf was a dead man. 
</p><p>
<em>”Touch him and the worms that live in these sands will feast on your entrails for days.”</em>
</p><p>
Yusuf closed his eyes in relief at the soft spoken threat, the familiar lilt of his lover’s voice a comfort even in the face of his possible demise. 
</p><p>
Another laugh from the man behind him, the bite of steel slicing through the tender flesh of his throat, the warmth of his blood trickling the short distance to his shirt where it was greedily soaked up by the cloth. 
</p><p>
Nicolò set the sword down and raised his hands, the epitome of a man surrendering but Yusuf knew better. Knew that for every sword, knife, and dagger Nicolò yielded there were two to take their place. Their enemy apparently didn’t know this as he relinquished his hold and moved to subdue Nicolò.
</p><p>
Yusuf closed his eyes against the squelching sound of steel against flesh, the sound of their captor gasping and gurgling against the warmth of his own blood, a strangled sound that echoed around them before the whistle of a sword silenced the man. 
</p><p>
Yusuf blinked his eyes open to see Nicolò kneeling before him, hand working at the knot that bound his hands. 
</p><p>
“You had me worried, my heart.” He whispered, arms wrapping around Nicolò as soon as they were free.
</p><p>
Nicolò cleared his throat and grasped at Yusuf’s tunic, “Sorry, for worrying you, my life.”
</p><p>
O~oO~o~Oo~O
</p><p>
“So moral of the story is don’t piss off the <em>Squishy</em>” Nile murmured, her eyes wide as she looked at Nicky in a new light.
</p><p>
Andy laughed, “As much as we hate to see anyone hurt, never let Joe be on the receiving end of any injury.”
</p><p>
“I am not that bad Andy.” Nicky defended, hands picking at the noodles on his plate absentmindedly.
</p><p>
“Nicky, you are a feral garbage cat and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
</p><p>
Nicky shifted in his seat embarrassed at Andy’s words, “You are a<em>garbage cat.</em>”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you to everyone, and I mean absolutely everyone who kept me going during this series, y'all are amazing and awesome!</p><p>I do have a list of prompts that I want to continue, so if you see anything in this series that you might want to see expanded please let me know and I will try my best! I do have a supernatural AU and a sentinel/guide AU in progress and hopefully will get to see the light of day soon.</p><p>Also whoever came with the idea of feral garbage cat you are my hero!! 💕</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>